


The Temptation of Troll Jesus

by Bettername



Series: Bad Ideas that Turned Out Surprisingly Well [2]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe- Human, Caliginous Romance | Kismesis, M/M, Pale Romance | Moirallegiance, Post Sgrub/Sburb, Swearing, tags and rating will be updated
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-11-05
Updated: 2013-12-20
Packaged: 2017-11-18 00:16:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 17,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/554788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bettername/pseuds/Bettername
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Signless went from an unknown mutant to a martyr to a messiah to a twenty year old pre-law college student. Starting a movement that would alter Alternian history forever is easy, resisting the constant urge to kill Kankri is hard, and figuring out relationships is a task of Sisyphean proportions.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Feelings Jam

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rewritten 3/22/13

\-- compeerGospel [CG] began trolling tenaciousCorrupter [TC] at 19:45pm --

CG: CLOWN FUCKER IT’S AN IMPROMPTU FEELINGS JAM TIME.

TC: GREETINGS MY MIRACULOUS RED BLOODED BROTHER.

CG: GH I’M NOT SURE IF YOU ARE AWARE OF THIS BUT WE ALL HAVE RED BLOOD NOW, YOU NEED TO THINK OF A NEW NICKNAME FOR ME. 

TC: you call me clown fucker and i do not engage in sexual activities with clowns. HOWEVER YOU STILL HAVE RED BLOOD AND ARE STILL MY BRO. you are the motherfucker that needs to come up with the new nickname. 

CG: THE ONLY REASON WHY YOU DON’T FUCK CLOWNS IS BECAUSE YOU ARE NOOK WHIPPED. 

TC: I’M NOT NOOK WHIPPED. first i’m tapping the hottest piece of ass in texas so i don’t need to go looking around for something else to wrap around my bulge. SECOND BRO HAS ALWAYS BEEN A HUMAN AND THEREFORE NEVER HAD A NOOK. and thirdly the clowns here are MOTHERFUCKING BLASPHEMERS AND I WILL STRIKE THEIR FALSELY PAINTED FACES DOWN.THE ONLY REASON WHY I WOULD FUCK A HUMAN CLOWN WOULD BE IF IT WAS THE MOST EFFECTIVE WAY TO WIPE ITS GLEEFUL FACE OUT OF EXISTENCE. Bro found out about the mirthful messiahs so he took me to a carnival once. THERE WERE NO MOTHERFUCKING SACRIFICES. those godless bastards. THE DUDE IN THE PIT WITH THE STRIPED GROWLBEASTS GOT MAULED BUT I DON’T THINK IT WAS INTENTIONAL. 

CG: YOU GOT KICKED OUT FOR CHEERING DIDN’T YOU? 

TC: maybe. 

CG: WHY AM I NOT FUCKING SURPRISED. IT MIGHT HAVE TO DO WITH THE FACT THAT YOU ARE A FUCKING PSYCHOTIC DEPRAVED LUNATIC. 

TC: PALE FOR YOU TOO MY FEISTY MOTHERFUCKER. 

CG: WHILE WE ARE ON THE TOPIC OF DEPRAVED LUNATICS HOW ARE THINGS GOING WITH YOUR MATESPRIT/HUSBAND/BOYFRIEND/WHATEVER THE FUCK YOU CALL HIM. 

TC: things are motherfucking bitchtits. 

CG: THAT GOOD? 

TC: HONK

CG: DON’T YOU MISS NOT HAVING A KISMESIS? 

TC: well after the summoner found out that we had become moirails he just didn’t feel motherfucking pitch for me anymore. THE MAGIC WAS GONE IN OUR HATEMANCE. 

CG: US BECOMING MOIRAILS IS WHAT ENDED YOUR KISMESISTUDE? 

TC: don’t get all down on yourself about it, rails before pails anytime bro. THAT AND BRO TOLD ME THAT IF I EVER CHEATED ON HIM HE WOULD CUT MY DICK OFF, MAKE A CAST OF IT SO HE COULD STILL USE IT LATER, AND AFTER THAT HE WOULD MAKE MY BLEEDING CARCASS WATCH AS HE PUTS MY SEVERED MEMBER IN THE BLENDER AND SET IT ON PUREE. 

CG: WELL THAT IS A DESCRIPTIVE THREAT. 

TC: he keeps the kit by the blender in the kitchen. IT’S GLOW IN THE DARK. 

CG: WHAT? 

TC: he bought a kit online that he can use to make a glow in the dark copy of my bulge. 

CG: HE CAN’T BE FUCKING SERIOUS. 

TC: NITRAM CAME OVER A FEW WEEKS AGO TO PICK TAVROS UP AND AFTER HE LEFT BRO DEMONSTRATED HOW TO MAKE HOT DOG SOUP. he rarely shows his violent possessive tendencies or any emotion. SO OF COURSE WE DID IT ON THE COUNTER. 

CG: I DON’T NEED DETAILS OF YOUR SORDID NUTRITION BLOCK SLOPPY MAKEOUTS. 

TC: I as your best motherfucking pale bro would be more than willing to listen to your highly descriptive makeout sessions. HONK. 

CG: HAS ANYONE TOLD YOUR ROTTEN THINK PAN THAT YOUR HONKS ARE BULGE KILLERS? 

TC: my bulge is a killer. HONK. 

CG: …

CG: …

CG: I ADMIT TO PEOPLE THAT I KNOW YOU. WHY? 

TC: because i’m your bro and our bromance is the most bromantic union of two bros this side of the brocean. 

CG: IMAGINE THE SOUND OF MY PALM HITTING MY FOREHEAD. 

TC: I HAVE A MOTHERFUCKING SUSPICION THAT YOUR PALM GETS MORE HEAD THAN YOU DO. 

CG: I'M NOT GOING TO FUCKING DIGNIFY THAT WITH A RESPONSE. 

TC: your lack of a response is a motherfucking response, and im sure that you did not call an impromptu feelings jam to talk about my sloppy makeouts with Bro since you didn’t ask for details. SO LIL MOTHERFUCKER LETS TALK ABOUT YOUR QUADRANTS. 

CG: WELL I HAVE THIS MOIRAIL WHO IS A RAGING ASSHAT. 

TC: is this and i quote raging asshat unquote a supportive asshat? DOES HE FUNCTION WELL AS A COVERING FOR YOUR ASS? or does he spend too much time raging to support your plush rump? 

CG: I CAN’T FUCKING EVEN…

TC: BRO YOU HAVEN’T GONE OFF ON A MOTHERFUCKING TIRADE ONCE YET IN THIS ENTIRE CONVERSATION. something is seriously wrong. NOT A SINGLE WALL OF TEXT. tell me or i will honk. HONK. 

CG: ARE YOU THREATENING ME WITH A HONK? 

TC: HONK

CG: THIS ISN’T GOING TO FUCKING WORK. 

TC: HONK

CG: I’M NOT CAVING. 

TC: HONK

TC: HONK 

TC: honk

TC: HONK 

TC: hOnk

TC: hoNk

CG: GOD FINE. AND YOU’RE THE ADULT HERE. YOU KNOW WHAT THAT’S THE PROBLEM. YOU ARE A FUCKING ADULT, THERE HAPPY? YOU GOT IT OUT OF ME. YOU’RE IN YOUR FORTIES. MOM IS IN HER FORTIES, DARKLEER IS IN HIS FORTIES, DUALSCAR IS IN HIS FORTIES, MINDFANG IS IN HER FORTIES, CONDY IS IN HER FORTIES, THE HANDMAIDEN IS IN HER FORTIES, AND SO IS PSI. REDGLARE AND THE DISCIPLE ARE IN THEIR LATE THIRTIES. SUMMONER IS IN HIS MID TWENTIES. AND HOW FUCKING OLD AM I? I’M FUCKING TWENTY. I’M FUCKING TWENTY YEARS OLD. I’M AS OLD AS ALL OF OUR PRE-SCRATCH VERSIONS, AND I’M BARELY OLDER THAN OUR OWN WIGGLERS. I’M ONLY THREE YEARS OLDER THAN MY OWN FUCKING GRUB. HOW FUCKED UP IS THAT. ALL OF MY FRIENDS AND ALL THAT I CARE FOR ARE GOING TO DIE BEFORE I DO. AND IT’S NOT JUST THAT. NO BECAUSE THAT WOULD BE TOO FUCKING EASY. THE DISCIPLE SAID SHE DOESN’T WANT TO GET TOGETHER NOW THAT MY BLOOD COLOR WILL NOT ENDANGER HER BECAUSE OF THE BIG AGE GAP. BUT I KNOW THAT SHE JUST CAN’T BRING HERSELF TO SAY THAT I’M NOT THE TROLL THAT SHE FELL IN PITY WITH. IT’S BEEN ALMOST A THOUSAND SWEEPS SINCE THEN. I KNOW THAT THINGS WERE NOT EASY AFTER MY DEATH, BUT SHE HAD DARKLEER TO SUPPORT HER. I WAS ALONE. I WAS ALONE, TRAPPED IN A BUBBLE FILLED WITH MY WORSE MEMORIES. AND NOW THAT I’M ALIVE AGAIN I’M TRAPPED THIS TIME WITH MY PRE-SCRATCH SELF WHO THINKS THAT EVERY DECISION THAT I EVER MADE WAS A MISTAKE. 

TC: DO YOU FEEL BETTER? 

CG: NO. I FEEL FUCKING PISSED. 

TC: good. 

CG: IN WHAT UNIVERSE IS ME BEING PISSED OFF GOOD? 

TC: THIS ONE, BECAUSE IF YOU ARE PISSED OFF THAT MEANS YOU’LL DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT. when you get depressed you turn into the sulkiest motherfucker in existence. VANTAS YOU WANT TO KNOW HOW SKAIA PICKED OUR AGES WHEN WE GOT BACK FROM THE FUCKING DEAD? our ages now are based on the ages we were when we died. CON, PSI, AND I WERE OVER A THOUSAND SWEEPS OLD WHEN THE UNIVERSE ENDED SO IT MAKES SENSE THAT WE ARE THE OLDEST NOW. you and nitram were the youngest off all of us when you two were executed. MY LITTLE MIRACULOUS BROTHER, YOU DID NOT EVEN LIVE FOR A TENTH OF MY LIFESPAN. you deserve to have more time. TAKE IT FROM A FUCKER WHO HAD TO WATCH EVERYONE THAT HE CARED FOR TAKEN AWAY FROM HIM. don’t lament the time that you lost, but focus on the time that you have together. YOU HAVE ANOTHER FORTY YEARS TO DEAL WITH MY PSYCHOTIC ASS AND FUCK IF I’LL LET ANY MOTHERFUCKER GET IN MY WAY OF US SPENDING THAT TIME TOGETHER, EVEN IF THAT INCLUDES YOUR GRUMPY ASS. got it? 

TC: NOW FOR THE SECOND PART. do you love meulin? 

CG: WHAT TYPE OF FUCKING QUESTION IS THAT? 

TC: IT’S AND EASY QUESTION. do you love meulin as she is now or do you love her as the disciple? YOU’VE ADMITTED THAT YOU’VE CHANGED SINCE YOU’VE ENTERED THE AFTERLIFE, BUT YOU HAVEN’T ACKNOWLEDGED THAT SHE HAS CHANGED TOO. she's not the same motherfucking troll/person either. EVEN IF YOU CAN’T ANSWER THAT QUESTION NOW IT’S MOTHERFUCKING IMPERATIVE THAT YOU FIGURE THAT OUT BEFORE YOU DECIDE TO DO ANYTHING. 

CG: …

CG: I’VE NEVER THOUGHT OF IT THAT WAY. I GUESS I’VE BEEN SO CAUGHT UP IN US HAVING TO BE TOGETHER BECAUSE WE WE’RE SUPPOSED TO HAVE HAD THIS RELATIONSHIP THAT TRANSCENDED ALL QUADRANTS, THAT I DIDN’T THINK ABOUT IF I WANTED TO BE TOGETHER. 

TC: now that you have that to motherfucking stew over, onto the third point. AND I’M GOING TO ANSWER THE QUESTION THAT YOU NEVER KNEW YOU MOTHERFUCKING HAD. yes humans seem to be able to experience caliginous relationships. BRO HAS BEEN WAXING BLACK FOR THE SAME MOTHERFUCKER FOR MONTHS NOW. does he or the object of his most caliginous affections realize what they have is mutual, no, but by the mirthful messiahs i will lock the both of them up in a room until the true nature of their relationship becomes obvious if they don’t fucking figure it out for themselves soon. I CAN ONLY TAKE SO MANY MOTHERFUCKING COLD SHOWERS. 

CG: WHY DO YOU NEED THE COLD SHOWERS? 

TC: i am the prince of rage i can sense the rage of others. I CAN TASTE THE LUST FUELED RAGE THAT SEETHES FROM BRO AND THE OTHER OBLIVIOUS FUCKER WHENEVER THEY GET INTO CLOSE PROXIMITY OF ONE ANOTHER. 

CG: OH…

TC: and now for the second part, the hatred that you feel for Kankri isn’t caliginous, it’s platonic. THE ONLY REASON THAT YOU THINK YOU WANT TO HAVE HATESEX WITH HIM IS BECAUSE YOU HAVN’T FIGURED OUT A WAY TO KILL HIM YET WITHOUT ROSA AND PORRIM KILLING YOUR ASS. 

CG: WHAT I FEEL TOWARDS THAT VILE SACK OF RUPTURING BILE IS CALIGINOUS. 

TC: wiggler don’t even think of lecturing me on black romance. IF YOU WANT A SECOND OPINION THEN GO TALK TO THE SUMMONER, OR BETTER YET GO TALK TO DUALSCAR WHO HAD HIS KISMESISTUDE WITH MINDFANG IMPLODE WHICH EVENTUALLY LED TO HIS DEATH BY MY CLUB. 

CG: I STILL THINK IT’S CALIGINOUS. 

TC: you are being such a stubborn wiggler about this. I WILL SHOW YOU MY MOTHERFUCKING PROOF. quote “ I WANT TO SHOVE MY BULGE DOWN HIS THROAT AND SKULL FUCK HIM UNTIL HE CHOKES ON HIS OWN BLOOD” end quote. KISMESIS VIEW EACH OTHER AS RIVALS; THEY DON’T WANT TO KILL EACH OTHER. 

CG: DID YOU SAVE THAT CHAT JUST TO MAKE THIS POINT? 

TC: maybe. 

CG: I’M NOT GOING TO WIN THIS ARGUMENT AM I? 

TC: NOPE. it’s not like i want to motherfucking bulge block you. TECHNICALLY YOU AND HE ARE TWINS, TECHNICALLY THAT WOULD BE CONSIDERED INCEST, AND HUMANS CONSIDER INCEST TABOO. but if what you and he have is a burgeoning black romance that is just waiting to motherfucking bloom then go for it. BUT I AM MOTHERFUCKING CERTAIN THAT HE PLATONICALLY HATES YOU AND YOU PLATONICALLY HATE HIM. if you two get in a kismesistude then one of you, if not both are going to end up dead. 

CG: I’M NOT SAYING THAT YOU’RE RIGHT, BUT I’M NOT SAYING YOU’RE WRONG. ALL I’M SAYING IS THAT I’LL THINK ABOUT IT. I’LL TROLL YOU LATER. 

TC: LATER MY MIRACULOUS BRO. 


	2. Motherfucker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Read the chapter and find out what happens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I rewrote the heck out of this chapter to focus more on the Signless. 3/22/13

For as much as Kankri expounded on the sanctity of his personal space he left the door to his room ajar. Which is a peculiar event given his near compulsive checking to make sure that neither he nor his inner sanctum would be disturbed. However, it is not an event so extraordinary to warrant undue attention. What does capture your attention are the hushed tones of another mingling with his. Kankri has a visitor. There is a person willing to devote more than a modicum of their time to converse with him, that fact is extraordinary. But you are not the type to pry. If he wants the identity of his companion made known he will inform you himself. Nevertheless, your room is past his room, and he left his door ajar. This is not your problem; his failure to shut his door is his problem. You venture past his room and the volume of the voices increase. His companion’s voice strikes you as unsettlingly familiar. You steal a furtive glance. The bag you’re carrying hits the floor before you realize that you’ve dropped it. You’ve see something you were never meant to see. You snatch up your bag and leave the house. You’re feet have taken you to a neighborhood you do not recognize before your rage compels you to rant to your moirail.

\-- compeerGospel [CG] began trolling tenaciousCorrupter  [TC] at 19:32 --

CG: MOTHERFUCKER

CG: THAT MOTHERFUCKER IS DEAD. HE IS FUCKING DEAD. 

TC: WHAT’S WRONG BRO? 

CG: LOOKS LIKE THE AGE GAP WASN’T THE FUCKING PROBLEM. 

CG: LOOKS LIKE IT WAS JUST ME THIS ENTIRE TIME. OR SHOULD I SAY THIS FUCKING VERSION OF ME. 

_Love that transcends all quadrants…_

CG: I WALKED IN ON KANKRI FUCKING MEULIN. 

_doesn’t exist._

CG: MY MEULIN. 

CG: IN MY HOUSE. 

TC: where are you now? 

TC: VANTAS WHERE ARE YOU RIGHT NOW? 

TC: are you home? 

CG: NO. 

CG: I LEFT. 

CG: I LEFT RIGHT AFTER I SAW THEM AND STARTED WALKING. 

CG: I DON’T KNOW WHERE I AM. 

CG: IT’S RAINING. 

TC: FIND THE NEAREST CORNER AND TELL ME THE STREET NAMES. 

TC: i am going to get you. 

CG: LOCUST AND MAIN

TC: I WILL BE THERE IN FIVE MINUTES. stay put. 

The world is crumbling around you and you do not know which piece to pick up first. The initial firestorm of emotions raging in your think pan has been tamped down to embers by the rain. Your hooded sweatshirt is drenched and your usual unruly mass of black curls are plastered to your forehead by the time a rust spotted white windowless van grinds to a halt in front of you. He just had to bring the van. You huff and trudge up to the passenger side door.

“You just had to pick me up in the windowless wiggler napping vehicle.”

“The truck’s in the shop and there is no motherfucking way I’m cramming myself in Bro’s hatchback just to retrieve your grumpy ass.” GH leans across the seat, unlocks the door, and grins. “So wiggler wanna go for a ride? I’ve got candy,” he sings ‘candy’ as he wiggles his eyebrows. You roll your eyes. 

“Only if you have candy and fuzzy little woofbeasts.” 

“You’re just in luck; I’ve got them both in the back,” his grin widens as you play along. 

“The only thing that you have in the back of your van is a tear stained mattress.” Now it’s your moirail’s turn to roll his eyes. 

“Vantas get your ass in the van before someone calls the motherfucking cops because they think that I am literally wigglernapping you bro.” 

“Fine”, you grumble and attempt to heft yourself up into the seat with as few embarrassing grunts as possible. It takes you a few attempts but you manage eventually. GH tries to stifle a snort and fails miserably. “What the fucks so funny clown?” You can’t help that you barely scrape 5’4. 

“Nothing,” he sings as he shifts the van into drive and pulls away. You lean against the door and watch the rain dance on the pavement. Focusing your full attention on the raindrops is a far better alternative than contemplating your current situation. However you know that your moirail will not leave you to your blessed silence, so you launch a preemptive strike. 

“You aren’t going to let me enjoy the silence are you?” 

“If you were just being mellow experiencing the joy of silence I would, but you’re not, so I’m not. You are a brooding motherfucker and don’t deny it.” If there is one thing that you can say about your moirail it is that he knows you well. “Lay out your troubles I’m here to listen.” 

“I’m not going to waste anymore fucking time on Kankri. The more time I spend hating that smug fuckass the more it feels like he’s won. I’m finished with him.” 

“You’re only lying to yourself bro. You are going to dwell on Kankri and every single way he has ever motherfucking wronged you.” 

“No I will not,” you enunciate each word to adequately stress your vehemence. 

“Yes you will my miraculous little brother. You will sit and brood over this until it burrows holes deep into you. You over analyze everything. Being able to pick something down into its smallest parts and see it from every angle is one of your greatest strengths, but it’s also your greatest weakness when it comes to that motherfucker. So I’ll just have to stop you from thinking.” He knows you too well. 

“And how are you going to accomplish that feat?” 

“I will take you down to the motherfucking depths of chaos. To a place that sanity dare not tread.” You know where this is going. 

“We’re going to your apartment?” 

“Yep. If you can manage to find the time or peace and quiet to get your think on I will be motherfucking surprised.” 

“It can’t be that bad.” You hear him chuckle and you know that he is smirking without needing to look. 


	3. Welcome to the Funhouse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Suff and GH go to Bro's apartment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rewritten 3/22/13.

"There is a fifth dimension beyond that which is known to man. It is a dimension as vast as space and as timeless as infinity. It is the middle ground between light and shadow, between science and superstition, and it lies between the pit of man's fears and the summit of his knowledge. This is the dimension of…”

“GH this isn’t an episode of the Twilight Zone.” His face lights up. 

“You watch the Twilight Zone.” 

“Sleep does not find me quickly most nights. I’d rather deal with the complexities that plague others than my own.” His grin disappears. “The first season introduction is the best.” 

“Amen to that my bro, the first season intro was bitch tits” your moirail replies as he unlocks the door and ushers you in. The room is as silent as it is empty. GH deflates as he scans his deserted apartment. “All the motherfuckers must be at Bro’s. He said he was going to order pizza. Getting delivery is his version of cooking. Hungry?” 

“A little, I was planning on scavenging for leftovers when I returned home since Mom, Porrim, and Kanaya made previous plans for dining out tonight. The volunteers are welcome to the soup that we hand out at the shelter but it just feels wrong to eat food that we could be giving out to the homeless, especially when I have ready access to food, and a home.” This conversation is getting depressing fast. “Oh, did I tell you we got a few new volunteers in our recent recruitment drive.” 

“That’s good to hear bro. I know you put a lot of work into that motherfucker.” 

“Yeah, some of the new recruits even helped me scrub out the big pots that always seem to get scorched at the bottom. We got done cleaning up the kitchen in record time.” You stop for a moment. “Which is why I returned home earlier than usual,” you trail off. GH and you stand idle in his vacant living block. He’s the first to break the uneasy silence. 

“We should probably get you some dry clothes first.” 

“Dry clothes and pizza. Sounds good.” 

“The lil fuckers gotta have something that would fit you.” You follow your moirail over to the next door apartment. 

“I am awash in a sea of fuckasses” hits the both of you as a tsunami of perpetual frustration as you enter the room. 

“Your wiggler is here. "

“He is a feisty one.” The group gathered around the makeshift plank and brick low table in the center of the living block pays you no notice. The Summoner’s grub is seated next to Gamzee on the floor in front of the television. Karkat is busy ranting in the corner on his other side. The next in the circle is the alternate version of Bro. It frightens you to no end that there exists two copies of that man. Dirk is leaning up against the window frame engrossed in his phone. You swear that you feel he is staring at you, yet his fingers have not ceased moving over the keypad. Paranoia will consume all those who let it. But that does not mean that they are not after you. On the padded contraption Bro refers to as a ‘futon’ sits Dave, the Strider that you find less unsettling, alongside John. Both boys are in nearly all of your grub’s conversations. You have Psi and GH, he has Dave and John. 

“Fuck you John and fuck your squirrely buckteeth. We are not having this argument again. You’ll admit that Con Air sucks so why won’t you admit that Matthew McConaughey is a better actor than Nicholas Cage?” Karkat shouts at his default volume. 

“Karbro calm your nubs. Finding an actor that all of us can agree on is just not a miracle that is going to happen in this lifetime.” 

“Um there is one.” All of the boys turn their attention to Tavros. “Dante Basco.” 

“What movie was he in?” Dirk asks. 

“He played Rufio in Hook and voiced Zuko in Avatar.” 

“Rufio, I could get behind that,” he replies with a flash of a faint smirk and Dave nods in agreement. 

“Rufio?” John questions. 

“He’s the guy with the black hair and red stripes,” Dave replies. 

“Oh that Rufio, yeah I like him.” John turns to your wiggler. “So Karkat do you hate him less than you hate everyone else?” Karkat glances over to Gamzee and Tavros before mumbling what sounds like an agreement. Tavros beams and Gamzee claps his hands together. 

“Looks like we got ourselves in motherfucking agreement. I have to say my piece though; I would pick my Tavbro over him any day.” Tavros’ grin begins to fade. Dave snickers. 

“You already did on the meteor, yo.” 

“What happens in the vents stays in the vents,” Gamzee hisses. Tavros’ grin vanishes and Dirk tears himself away from his phone. 

“Oh, he doesn’t know does he?” Dave looks like the meow beast that just caught the yellow singing feather beast. “And if Tavros doesn’t know” pause for dramatic effect, “then that means that He doesn’t know.” Gamzee visibly twitches. You have an inkling who this He might be. “Does He know Gamzee? Does He know what you did to His precious … little… pupa?” The Summoner has nothing but the utmost adoration for his descendent. Gamzee has every reason to be alarmed if he did anything unsavory to his precious Tavros. 

“You wouldn’t motherfucker.” 

“Wouldn’t I?” Strider’s grin widens. “I would tell him even if you hadn’t drunk the only apple juice that Rose managed to make on the meteor. I would tell him just to see the look on his face right before he flays you alive for touching his adorable Tavros before he ever got the chance to. Don’t say I didn’t warn you bro.” His laugh rings with pure sadistic pleasure. 

“Dave don’t you fucking dare tell Tavros that Gamzee used to makeout with his head,” your grub shrieks. Karkat slams his hands over his mouth and slowly turn to look at the stunned Nitram. 

“My head? I died from getting impaled on my lance. I wasn’t um … decapitated.” Tavros glances over to Gamzee who is gnawing on his bottom lip. 

“I cut your head off bro to … make your sprite.” For a former double agent Gamzee is a terrible liar. An ugly realization hits the unfortunate wiggler. Capricorns are known for hoarding dead things for ‘reasons’. The little one stands up, his clenched fists are shaking; his eyes are squeezed shut; his breathing is fast and shallow. You go to take a step forward but GH stops you with a hand on your shoulder. Tavros stops shaking and his eyes snap open. 

“You.” The wiggler’s voice just dropped an octave. He yanks Gamzee up by the collar. “You cut my head off. Bros don’t cut each other’s head off do they Gamzee?” Gamzee shakes his head. “But yet you did. You fucking cut my head off and made out with it. In the vents. You made out with my rotting severed head in the fucking vents.” Gamzee gulps. “You sick fuck.” Tavros slams his forehead against Gamzee’s then releases his death grip on the shirt. Gamzee crumples to the floor. K.O. Flawless victory. Tavros turns to his next target. Dave Strider. 

“Are you going to take what’s coming to you like the man you claim to be? Or are you going to run like the bitch you are?” He hisses. The kid flinches but remains on the futon. Tavros circles the table to face his prey. “I’ll warn you once. Take off your sunglasses.” Dave hesitates before taking them off. He swallows and Dirk leans over and picks the sacred shades out of his hand. “This,” Tavros holds up a clenched fist, “this is for implying that The Summoner, the hero of legend, the leader of the rebellion, the person that I admire more than anyone in this entire universe, wants to fuck me, the person he views as his little brother. Just because you want your older brother’s dick in your ass doesn’t mean that my brother wants his in mine.” Dave opens his mouth to say something and Tavros cuts him off. “Terezi told Vriska who told me everything.” Dave shuts his mouth and grimaces accepting his fate. Tavros lets fly. You head a sickening crunch followed by what you think is a muffled ‘my nose’. 

“Karkat.” Your wiggler’s eyes go wide. GH’s grip on your shoulder tightens. “I know that you were trying to protect me by not telling me, but I don’t need it. I’m not the helpless, stuttering, person everyone thinks that I am. You should have told me.”Karkat nods. 

“Now for you.” Tavros roughly grabs John by the shirt and smashes their lips together before pushing him back onto the futon. “What happens in the dream bubbles doesn’t always stay in the dream bubbles. And John.” 

“Y-yeah,” the dazed kid replies. 

“Get your shit straightened out on Saturday. I’m picking your ass up at eight.” 

“O-okay.” 

“And before I leave, I want you fuckers to know one thing. I’m Dante Basco bitches.” Tavros flips the double bird, walks past you and GH, kicks the door down and leaves. Dirk starts slowly clapping. Bro joins in, when the hell did he show up? GH glances down at his still unconscious descendant and begins to clap. You shrug your shoulders and start clapping. A guy cautiously pokes his head around the broken door frame and just stares. 

“Pizza delivery.” 


	4. Please Allow Me To Introduce Myself

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time to deal with the aftermath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lyrics - Sympathy for the Devil by the Rolling Stones  
> Rewritten 3/23/13.

Your moirail did promise you chaos to distract your troubled mind. Whether or not this particular descent into madness was of his design is yet to be seen. The carnage in the Strider’s living block reminds you of the aftermath of a subjugglator raid on a low blood village that backfired. Gamzee remains sprawled out face first on the floor in an unconscious heap of limbs. Perhaps Tavros does have more in common with his ancestor than just his insatiable love of fiddlespawn. Dave is preoccupied with dodging the triage attempts of the other young Strider. However flash stepping with a possible concussion does not seem like a wise decision. Neither is insinuating incestuous feelings of an older brother/father figure when there is a clear lack of evidence. You distract yourself from further delving into the murky depths of the possible on goings of one of your followers by checking on your wiggler. Karkat has his full attention focused on John who is reclining back in the futon with a dazed smirk on his face. 

“What? How? Tavros?” Karkat sputters. John giggles as he absently runs his fingers through his tangled mess of hair. 

“Well there was this one time…” The room goes silent, all pairs of eyes and shades lock onto him. 

“Ahnnd?” Dave asks muffled from behind the blood soaked rag cradled over his nose. 

“There was this ring…” he trails off. 

“And?” the room choruses. 

“We kinda fought over it.” John pauses. The room waits with bated breath. “I might have touched his butt. Repeatedly. No homo.” John pauses again. “And then there was this other time on the ship…” he chuckles. “And well he was being an obnoxious dick … and things might have escalated some. A little… no a lot homo. Well let’s just say that it’s good that Sollux was blind at the time.” 

“So that’s why Sollux asks me if you and Tavros are going to come when I invite him to do something,” Karkat whispers. He remains silent for a moment before he reaches his own surprising realization. John just your broke wiggler’s think pan. “Nitram? Black? How can he even? No. Just. No.” 

“That lip smash wasn’t exactly fucking subtle. Is it that much of a motherfucking surprise? The little bro is the Summoner’s grub and he can get downright motherfucking truculent when he gets worked up.” The room’s focus whiplashes away from Karkat who is in the throes of losing his mind and over to your moirail. “All I’m saying is don’t discount a Nitram or you might end up with a lance shoved up your …”

“GH, don’t traumatize the wigglers.” 

“But…” You shake your head no and pap him on the shoulder. He huffs and mutters something about the miracles of blackrom and jousting weapons. Karkat’s eyes dart between you and GH.

“How long have you…?”

“We have been present since ‘I am awash in a sea of fuckasses’.” Your wiggler pulls off a double face palm combo. You cannot help but smirk. 

“Alright motherfuckers pizza’s getting cold and unless any of you want to volunteer to remove Bro’s shuriken collection from the oven it’s time to get your asses in gear. Karkat stop wallowing in shame over the fact that your ancestor did witness that debacle and find him a change of clothes. Dave stop bleeding everywhere and get Bro to check if your nose is broken. If you do anything with him make sure that you tape it. Use the camcorder under the bed. Phones have shitty video quality. I’m going to make sure that Gamzee isn’t motherfucking dead. And Dirk. Release the Kraken. Let the fucker know that the pizza’s here otherwise he’ll forget to eat again.”

“Um what do I do?” John asks. 

“Plan for your date on Saturday.”

“Huh?”

“And don’t fuck it up. If Tavros is anything like Nitram…” cue the dirty old Capricorn chuckle. Your moirail’s perverted mirth ends abruptly as an ominous feeling rattles you to the core. You turn and see Bro glaring at GH from the kitchen; at least you think he’s glaring, it’s impossible to tell with his infernal shades. Either way Bro silenced the clown by sheer killing intent alone. Impressive.

“I’m flushed for you Bro-chan.” Bro’s stare lingers on GH for an additional moment before his attention reverts back to Dave. 

“Cough nook whipped cough.” Your moirail huffs as Karkat pats your damp clothes concerned. The wiggler signs as he slowly shakes his head. 

“I’ve got some clothes stashed in Gamzee’s room that you can wear.” You follow Karkat out of the Strider’s living block and into the Makara’s. “So what brought you out to this shit storm? Not that I’m saying that you can’t spend any time with your moirail, it’s just that I don’t see you out here that often. Not Like I live here but…”

“Karkat it’s alright. I understand. Today has been … out of the ordinary for me to put it delicately.” Your wiggler looks at you questioning for a moment. 

“Kankri?” He waits for you to respond. When you do not he interprets your silence as an affirmative and nods knowingly before glancing over to see how you’re holding together. He stops walking. You lean up against a wall and decide to study your shoes. “That bad?” Your sigh deflates what little you’ve built up. 

“For once I which that he had no connection to my troubles. Or to her.” 

“Her?” 

“The Her. The only her.” You face Karkat to see his expression meld from confusion to shocked disbelief. 

“No. The Disciple? She’s the Disciple. Your disciple. Stories are written about the love that you two shared. Your love was fabled to transcend all quadrants. He can’t get between you two.” 

“I would not have believed it if I had not seen it myself.” 

“You saw?” he grimaces as you nod. “Fuck.” 

“I arrived home earlier than expected and there they were blatant proof that Kankri had broken his vows of celibacy. I never would have expected that Meulin had such questionable taste, but she did desire to choose me once centuries ago. Nothing ever did become of it. I did not want to put her in danger. Not to fulfill physical urges. Donating to the mother grub with an unregistered mutant would put her at undue risk.” 

“You two never pailed? How? You were,” your wiggler pauses deep in thought, “around 16 sweeps old when you died. The drones start collecting pails at nine sweeps. The collections were mandatory even then. You must have had at least one quadrant filled even temporarily seven times.” 

“Karkat I was not listed in the official records until my capture. Mother and I spent our entire lives running from the Empire. If we routinely escaped from the clutches of subjugglators hunting us would it be that impossible for us to escape from the drones?” 

“Then why?” 

“Am I angry? Why did I walk outside in the rain with no clear destination? I know that my feelings are baseless and without merit since the Disciple… since Meulin and I never renewed the vows we made over a millennium ago. That our relationship is not what it once was. I guess my anger stems from the sole reason that she had chosen him. I never thought that I would be able to hate someone with every fiber of my being, that I would be capable of hating another more than I loathed myself.” You pause. “I hated Kankri from the first sentence that he uttered. The moment he told me to check my unchecked privilege I knew I wanted to hear what his screams sounded like. I wanted to feel him bleed underneath me. I wanted him to understand the full horrors of what I have witnessed. GH tells me that my feelings towards him are not caliginous, but I cannot help but disagree.” 

“There is not enough brain bleach in the world,” your wiggler mutters. 

“Hmm?” 

“We should stop at that, I don’t want your moirail accusing us of cheating on him.” 

“GH calls me his pale slut.” Karkat snickers. “Oh and if I’m a pale slut then that makes you a pale tart. Don’t delude yourself Karkat; I know how much you care for your friends and those around you.” 

“Why are you grinning like that?” 

“There’s no need to sound so disgusted little one, I’m just proud of you and I hope that you know that.” 

“I’m not little,” he grumps, “I’m the same height as you. Follow me to Gamzee’s room fuckass.” You chuckle and let your wiggler lead you down the hallway to the first door. 

“Karkat what’s that sound?” 

“He must have left his stereo on.” He? 

“Who?” The door next to you opens and out walks someone you have not met before but are more than willing to get to know. The Makara that you have only heard mentioned or seen in passing is tall, just a few inches shy of his post scratch iteration. He is at the trailing end of the gangly limbed transitional stage to adulthood with a suitable fraction of his other self’s musculature. 

_Please allow me to introduce myself I’m a man of wealth and taste_

He has a mop of dark wavy hair that brushes the tops of his shoulders.

_I’ve been around for a long long year, stole many a man’s soul and faith_

He still wears the paint reserved for a follower of the Mirthful Messiahs.

_I was round when Jesus Christ had his moment of doubt and pain_

The skin underneath is caramel, a few shades darker than your own.

_Made damn sure that Pilate washed his hands and sealed his fate_

And his dark eyes dance as they meet yours.

_Pleased to meet you hoped you guessed my name_

_But what’s puzzling you is the nature of my game_

He smiles before he turns and walks away.

Oh Fuck He’s Hot.


	5. Dinner Table Topics

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dinner with the Striders, Makaras and the poor bastards that just want some pizza.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Its a brand spanking new chapter! I've rewritten chapters 1-4 so be sure to check them out.

Your face warms as the blood rushes to the surface layers of skin. You are betrayed by your own body. Memory bubbles are a peculiar thing; they can force you to relive your most painful memories in an infinite loop. However, they also allow you to break that loop if you are able to visualize a more potent memory. After you and your band’s final capture by the Empire you were ferried off to the capital to have your fate decided. The leader of your captors considered you a rival, a worthy adversary who had bested all of his contrivances. He decided to keep you for himself. To deter any would be interlopers he claimed that you were his kismesis and no one fucks with the leader of the subjugglator’s kismesis. Once he had you taken back to his personal chambers it was clear to you that he did not view you as a kismesis but a much paler companion. A perigree before your execution the drones came to collect. Dying at the claws of a drone would not serve your cause. You had to die a martyr as Psi had foretold. Your captor cum confidante agreed to assist you with your donation. After your death that flushed tinged encounter saved you from yourself more times than you care to admit. And there were times when you relived that memory for reasons beyond interrupting painful ones. You never expected to see the Grand Highblood again, or for him to declare his pale feelings. You’re just thankful that he no longer wears the paint of a follower of the Mirthful Messiahs since he became human. The scent of face paint stirs things within you. No one needs to know about your fetish. 

A gentle shake of your shoulder snaps you out of the haze swaddling your think pan. You turn away from the closed door to the hand on your shoulder. Karkat is staring at you, the concern evident on his face. He presses the back of his cool hand against your forehead while grumbling something about the flush of your skin and breaking the speed record for contracting a human sniffle virus. A smile plays across your lips as your wiggler fusses over you. He has a generous kind soul despite the gruff exterior that he tries to fool the world with. He will be a better person than you ever could, and for that you are thankful. You are thankful that he is safe and will never have to undergo the suffering that you had endured. You are thankful that he is surrounded by companions, as questionable as some may be. His expression sours when he notices you looking at him. He grumps and drags you off to his friend’s room. 

“But that’s incest.” The alarmed voice sounds like John. 

“No, in that case it’s called wincest.” And that voice sounds like GH. Why are you not surprised. 

There is never an opportune time to walk into a conversation in the Makara-Strider household. You pause midway through the door and glance over to Karkat who gives you a brief nod to come in. A pair of triangular shades locks on to you thwarting your retreat. You never show weakness to the enemy unless it is part of a ruse to lure them into a false sense of security. You have not won Strider; you have simply delayed my victory. 

“There is this human phenomenon called twins,” your moirail continues, “and when a pair of such beings blessed in form by the Mirthful Messiahs engage in the aforementioned activities the resulting miracle is called wincest.” You stroll up to the motley collection huddled around the pizza laden table. Karkat squirms in between you and a now conscious Gamzee pushing you further down away from your moirail and closer to his incomprehensible matesprit. 

“Technically the term is selfcest for clones,” the shaded creature besides you mentions off hand. 

“Or it could possibly be considered a form of masturbation,” Dirk chips in without missing a beat. John alternates staring at the elder Strider sitting down at the end of the table and the one leaning up against the back of the futon next to Kurloz before settling on Dave whose pale skin is turning pink. Kurloz flicks a finger between Dave and Dirk. “If selfcest doesn’t tickle your fancy you could always stick to good old fashion incest between Dave and I.” Dave’s face turns a deeper shade of red then you thought possible. “My apologies for getting your hopes up lil bro but you need to beef up before you get my meat up.” Karkat chokes and whips his crust onto the paper plate. 

“What the fuck is this? This is madness.” 

Bro swallows the bite that he was working on. “No, this is Friday.” His statement does not surprise you in the least. No matter how pedestrian of a topic that man considers incest the younger participants in this conversation seem, you will not say that word you will not say that word, disturbed. Yes, disturbed, a very suitable alternative. And you being you and as much as it… disturbs you that you share any characteristics with that smug self-righteous prick, you feel compelled to step in before the wigglers can be further mentally scarred. 

“Mr. Strider, I know that you are well aware that there are young ones present at the dinner table this evening and have little choice but to take part in the less than appropriate conversational topic that you have chosen. I also know that you must be aware of the effect that your choice of conversational topic has on the teens. You might find the short term consequences of your decision humorous but I can assure you that the long term effects from exposure to topics such as incest and carnal relations with alternate iterations can be quite severe and deleterious to their mental and emotional health and wellbeing.” The atmosphere in the room is tense and hushed. A few suddenly find their pizza to be highly interesting while others steal furtive glances between you and the eldest Strider. He for his part remains expressionless as he sets the remainder of his pizza slice down on the paper plate. He rests his elbows on the table and steeples his fingers. 

“Why Kankri did I trigger you?” You’re standing up growling with sickles in both hands before your brain makes a conscious decision to gut the emotionless bastard. Strider stares at you impassive. He hasn’t even flinched. 

“Wrong Vantas Bro,” you hiss. 

“My bad, it’s difficult to tell you two apart. You’re just so similar bro,” he adds. The sudden grinding of a chair against the floor forcibly grabs everyone’s attention including your own. GH stands up, walks over to the refrigerator. He takes out an icepack before sitting back down at the table. He hisses as he situates the freezing object between his legs. Your moirail holds out his hand and gestures towards your seat. 

“Sit.” You sit down. Everyone at the table is silent as GH looks between you and Bro. “Now that I have your undivided attention I want to make something motherfucking clear. Your hate flirting in public has got to motherfucking stop. Take it to the roof, take it to a room, or shut it the fuck down. My little bro is going to get his murder on if he remains at his house so I’m going to let him crash at my hive until shit gets worked out. I will not fucking take a cold shower every time you two motherfucking glare at each other.” Bro snorts. 

“Sugar dumpling you can’t be saying that you get a stiffy from all the supposed delectable sexual tension laced rage that’s just seething out of me and mister holier than thou and the pope’s pointy hat are yah?” GH takes a bite out of his pizza and chews it at a glacier’s pace while he stares at his matesprit. “Ah.” He takes a long slurp of Faygo.

“Yep.” 


	6. Cold Pizza and the Sacred Right of Dibs

An uncomfortable silence fills the air like the stench of piles of corpses rotting in the Alternian sun. The source is all so clear and yet no one wants to broach the subject let they be added to the heap. Karkat eyes the crust of his pizza as if it had wronged him but he’s since forgotten the extent of its crimes against him. Gamzee blithely continues to munch on even taking another slice. John’s unease is apparent while Dave’s is thinly veiled behind a mask that needs improvement. Dirk’s mask is better, but not by much. Kurloz almost seems amused by the whole proceeding glancing now and then at your moirail who is slowly taking sips of Faygo while staring at his matesprit. Bro for his part is an excellent actor eating his remaining pizza with feigned relish. The pizza is cold, greasy, cheese coated cardboard. Its taste does not warrant his level of enjoyment. You focus on the spongy crust in your hands and not Bro’s lips and tongue that are currently engaged in cleaning off his fingertips. The grinding of a chair on linoleum plows through the stagnant silence. 

“I’m gonna go do the dishes,” Dave volunteers as he stands up. John looks up at him in shocked betrayal. It’s up to John to formulate his own escape plan. 

“We’re eating on paper plates lil man,” Bro drawls. 

“Then I’ll collect them and throw them out yo.” The tension leaves the room in a great gust as people all but thrust their plates at Dave who shuffles around the table as he collects them. The meal is over, it is time to flee. Karkat all but drags Gamzee back to his friend’s room. Dave and John linger in the living room until Bro chases them out with a sharp look over his sunglasses and a jerk of his head. Dirk is gone before you realize it, but you do get a glimpse of Kurloz leaving the apartment. Only you, Strider, and GH are left sitting around the table. Wonderful. Your moirail and Bro are in the midst of an active discussion spoken solely through micro expressions. You’re sure there is a torture chamber somewhere on Alternia that you would rather be at. Bro is the first one to speak.

“I demand foot rubs.”

“Done,” GH replies instantly. He should have held out longer. Now Bro knows he can get more.

“And…”

“And?” 

Bro leans back into his chair and crosses his arms. “I want pictures of you doing salacious things to the smuppet that I made for you.” 

GH waits longer before replying this time. “You got yourself a deal motherfucker.” Bro nods solemnly before standing up.

“Is that it?” you ask.

“Were you expecting a duel at high noon because that can be arranged.” Bro wanders off to put the pizza away before you have a chance to respond. 

“Moirailbro you’re going to sleep in my room while you’re here and I’ll sleep in Bro’s. You can stay here until you’re sure you won’t get your murder on.”

“Thanks. Its spring break starting Monday at the college, however I will need a few of my school supplies and books along with clothing and other stuff.” 

“Just make a list up and I’ll send your wiggler, my little shit, and one of the bigger shits that can drive to pick it up tomorrow.” 

“They won’t mind?”

“If they do they’ll fucking get over it.” Your moirail grins and it cuts through your apprehension. Perhaps this won’t be the clusterfuck you’ve imagined. He takes you back to his room and grabs a t-shirt for you to wear and a spare toothbrush. You write out the list of essentials that you’ll need for a week -long stay as he putters around collecting various articles of clothing and other items to take over to his matesprit’s apartment. 

Time passes slowly after he leaves.

You’re halfway through eating a reheated slice of pizza for lunch the next day when the boys return from their trip to your mother’s house. Karkat unceremoniously dumps your duffle bag near the pile of bean bag chairs that your moirail has assembled in a corner of his living room. Gamzee sits your backpack down beside it.  
“Kurloz may or may not have broken Kankri’s jaw. We didn’t stay long enough to find out,” your wiggler huffs. You drop your slice of pizza. 

“Bout motherfucking time. I want details. How big was the blood puddle? What kind of noise did he make when you hit him? I bet he squeaked. He looks like he would squeak.” You glance over to your moirail. He puts his Faygo down. “What? Fucker looks soft. Probably doesn’t have a single scar or callous.” You close your eyes and pinch the bridge of your nose. Kankri wouldn’t even flinch because it would not occur to him that someone might want to actually hit him.

“What the bulgeslurping fuck happened?”

“We are five fucking seconds away from walking out the front door with your shit in hand when this idiot,” he motions to Gamzee, “pulls out a note from some nonexistent pocket and says that clown fondler number one would think that it would be just bitch tits if he would read it to the ever expanding soul sucking black hole where happy feelings go to disappear never to be seen again.” 

“That’s what the lil motherfucker said?”

“I’m fucking paraphrasing.” And Karkat just realized that GH asked him that question. “Sir.” 

“Please continue Karkat.”

“Sure, so someone finds Kankri and eventually we get him to shut up. Gamzee starts reading the letter your moirail wrote voicing his vast dis-fucking-pleasure concerning recent events. After a slew of thinly veiled threats of dismemberment Gamzee reads ‘Gamzee don’t read the following part out loud’ out loud. At that point clown fondler number two,” he motions to Kurloz who is playing with his phone, “takes the note from Gamzee and reads it. He then folds the note back up, hands it to Gamzee, and sends a text. Dirk who hasn’t said a single fucking word during the entirety of the trip checks his phone and says ‘Kurloz has called the sacred right of dibs on the basis of past transgressions.’” 

“And then Kurloz punched him?” you ask.

“Not exactly. He cracked his knuckles, walked up to Kankri, and then punched him in the face. The wind bag crumpled instantly. Cronus looked like he was seriously contemplating starting some shit and that’s when it seemed like a great fucking time to leave.” You groan and rest your face in your palms. 

Dirk waits around after the others eventually leave. 

“Signless, Kurloz didn’t hit Kankri for you, he did it for himself.” He pauses to let that fact sink in. “Kankri didn’t speak to Kurloz after he bit out his tongue because Kankri didn’t want to flaunt his ability to talk in front of him. He thought that it would be,” Dirk uses air quotes, “ableist.” 

“The gas belching vomitus mass needs a good power washing.” Dirk slides a piece of paper and a pen across the table to you.

“Kurloz wants your digits and after that illustrative description I can see why. He thinks you’re kawaii. I’m the Prince of Heart. My abilities have more to do with destroying souls than hooking people up, but I still got the big pink poofy pants when I went god tier so I might as well put them to use. I don’t have wings and I’m not a cherub but you can call me cupid while I’m doing my bro a solid.” He waits for you to say something. “Kurloz wants your phone number. He communicates through texts and pesterchum.”

“Oh of course since he…” you trail off. 

“No he has a tongue. It’s just taking him a while to remaster vocal chords.” You nod and hand him your phone number. “Sweet.” He takes the slip of paper and leaves the apartment. 

“Kurloz thinks I’m kawaii,” you mutter to yourself as you reheat what’s left of your cold pizza. “What does that even mean? He thinks that I’m kawaii.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you have questions? Comments? Want to talk about the story? Just go to bettername.tumblr.com .


	7. Coffee and Iced Tea

\-- compeerGospel  [CG] began trolling technicalAbrogate[TA]  at 1:32pm --

CG: PSI  
CG: PSI  
CG: PSI  
TA: TH3 P51 Y0U 5P34K3 0F 15 N07 1N 70D4Y  
CG: THEN WHICH BULGEFONDLER DO I HAVE THE DISPLEASURE OF SPEAKING TO?   
TA: Y0U H4V3 7H3 H0N0R, N4Y 7H3 PR1V1L4G3 0F SP34K1NG 70 7H3 D1V1N3 CR3A7UR3 WH0 15 7H3 50L3 R3450N WHY 7H15 C0MP4NY M4N4G35 T0 FUNC710N 1N 4NY C0MP4C17Y  
CG: OH GLORIOUS AND DIVINE CREATURE THIS FOOLISH MORTAL BAG OF VISCERA AND RAGE WISHES TO ASK YOU A FEW QUESTIONS.   
TA: 7H3 D1V1N3 CR347UR3 W1LL L1573N 70 7H3 84LL 0F R4G3’5 QU35710N5  
CG: YOU’RE CODING AREN’T YOU?   
TA: Y35 1 H4V3 833N 8U5Y 73ND1NG 70 MY D1V1N3 DUT135  
CG: HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN CODING?   
TA: 71M3 M4773R5 N07 70 4 CR347UR3 5UCH 45 1  
CG: WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU ATE SOMETHING?   
CG: DO YOU EVEN REMEMBER?   
TA: L457 71M3 GH C4LL3D WH1CH W45 50M371M3  
CG: WELL YOU’RE IN LUCK. I WOULD RATHER EAT WEEK OLD SLABS OF PUTRID NECROTIZED FLESH THAN THE THREE TIMES REHEATED PLASTIC COATED GREASE SOAKED SPONGE ATTEMPTING TO PASS ITSELF OFF AS PIZZA CURRENTLY SITTING ON MY PLATE. I THINK I REMEMBER HOW TO GET TO YOUR WORK. PREPARE YOURSELF TO CONSUME SUBSTANCES OTHER THAN HIGH OCTANE ENERGY SLUDGE.   
TA: H4V3 Y0U 3V3R C0N51D3R3D 7H47 1 M1GH7 L1K3 7H3 74573 0F 7H3 3N3RG3 5LUD3 7H47 Y0U 5L4ND3R 50 M4L1C10U5LY?   
CG: YOU ALSO MIGHT LIKE THE TASTE OF MIND HONEY BUT THAT DOESN’T MEAN THAT YOU SHOULD FUCKING EAT IT WITH RECKLESS ABANDON. I WILL BE THERE AT SOME POINT IN TIME IN THE NEAR FUTURE AND YOU WILL EAT NUTRICIOUS FOOD EVEN IF I HAVE TO FORCIBLY SHOVE IT DOWN YOUR GULLET.   
TA: 0H 5L Y0U K1NKY M1NX P4L3 M3 H4RD3R. G0 1N70 D3741L 4B0U7 H0W Y0U’LL M4K3 5UR3 1 W0N’7 D13 FR0M 574RV4710N. 713 M3 D0WN 4ND F33D M3 FRU173 4ND V3G7A8L35. M4K3 5UR3 7H47 1 H4V3 7HR33 5QU4R3 M34L5 4 D4Y. F3TCH MY 5M3LL1NG 54L75 1 F33L 45 1F 1 M1GH7 5W00N.   
CG: YOU AREN’T SWOONING YOU BULGECHAFING NOOK BITER. YOU HAVE LOW BLOOD SUGAR. I’LL LET YOU KNOW WHEN I’M AT YOUR WORK. TRY NOT TO DIE UNTIL THEN.   
TA: 1 M4K3 N0 PR0M1535.   


You manage to get off the bus at the appropriate station and walk the three blocks to your moirail’s work without incident. The office building is desolate save for the guard that will not let you past the front desk without proper credentials. You loiter in the lobby while you wait much to his displeasure. He flips the pages of his newspaper as loudly as possible to give his not so subtle agitation a voice. The spindly disaster known as your moirail pops out of an elevator by the time the guard gets to the classified section and heads over to where you’re waiting. 

“Sup SL.” 

“Come on fucker let’s get some food in you before you collapse.” 

He grins as you drag him out the front doors and down the sidewalk. “As charming as ever, I’ll have to tell GH how you swept me off me feet.”

“I’d sweep your feet out from underneath you if breaking a bone in your emaciated body wasn’t a primary concern of mine fuckass.” 

“I’m a primary concern of yours?”

You stop walking and glare at him. “Psiionic you are a disaster of epic proportions. I’m surprised that a black hole hasn’t spontaneously formed from your own glaring ineptitude.” 

“SL keep flirting with me in public and I might just blush.” 

“I could only make you blush if you have a sense of shame.” Psi nods and holds the door open to the café that you two often frequent. You walk into the establishment and wind your way back to a secluded booth in the corner. A few moments later a waitress brings you your customary iced tea and Psi his coffee. His hand shakes as he lifts the mug to take a sip. “Psi I don’t think that you need any more caffeine in your system.” He takes a loud slurp of the black ooze just to spite you. 

“I know what I need SL but DS isn’t here to ride my bulge.” 

“I hope you’re talking about Dualscar and not a Strider as pan blistering disturbing as all of those options are.”

“I wouldn’t trade my self-obsessed attention whore for anything else. Even a well- toned Strider ass.” The waitress showing up to take your order distracts you from the forming mental image of Bro leering at you wearing nothing but a pair of jeans. 

“Well I’m glad that your relationship with the inflamed weeping nook pustule is moving along swimmingly but the last thing that you need to focus on is getting your bulge attention,” you pick up the conversation after the waitress leaves. “You need sleep Psi. You look like shit.” The bags under his eyes are big enough to hold your impressive collection of self-loathing, raging inadequacies, doubt, and guilt.

“So do you. I lost track of time working on a project for work. What’s your excuse?”

“Kankri.”

He chuckles into his coffee. “What did the bright fucking ray of sunshine do this time?” 

“The Disciple.”

Psi snorts his coffee. “What the shame globe fondling fuck?” He puts his mug down on the table. “Hoofbeast shit. Even he isn’t that stupid.”

“I walked in on them after I got home early from the soup kitchen yesterday. He left his door open.” You take a sip of your iced tea as Psi stares at you, his mouth agape.

“In the room right next to yours?” You nod as you add more sugar to your tea. “Shit… I stand corrected.” He leans back into the booth and runs his hand across his mouth. “Fuck.” He looks back to you. “Are you ok? Of course you’re fucking not ok just look at you.”

“Thanks Psi.” 

“You’re welcome.” He pauses. “Do you need a place to stay? My couch is uglier than GH in the morning but it’s comfortable.”

“I’m staying at his place until I get things sorted out or I feel less murderous.”

“Let me know if you want to escape the den of Faygo swilling clowns.” 

“I’ll keep your offer in mind.” The conversation stalls out when the food arrives. Your moirail inhales half a burger and a sizable portion of his fries before he decides to break the lull.

“KN,” he says as he slowly shakes his head. “I thought TD would have better taste than that. Sorry,” he adds. 

“She did choose me once and if that is an indication of her taste I don’t think that it qualifies as good by any fucking definition of the word,” your chuckle trails off ending in a sigh. “I’m well aware that she has changed since my death. Both of us have changed. I can only wish for her happiness now.” 

“Just not with him?”

You chuck your mangled fry. “Why the leprous bulge slurping fuck did she have to pick that particular wet wastechute stain? She is a being of pure joy who can lift the spirits of the downtrodden with as much ease as she can bring down a cholerabear. Anyone would be lucky to have her attention and yet she picks him.” 

“What like CR?” Psi snickers. “He and KN are the same age.” 

He keeps laughing despite you glaring at him. “Let’s not get ourselves fucking carried away here.” 

“SL a wise man once told me that the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else.” He cracks a grin.

“You never cease to amaze.” 

“I try my best.” He waits while you take a drink. “So what do you think about TE?” 

You cough and put your drink down. “What the fuck Psi?”

“He looks like he would be a good fuck, maybe a little too serious and brooding though.”

“He killed me.”

“Not a great way to start off a relationship but salvageable.”

“Are we really going to do this here?”

“Yes we are SL. It’s my job; nay my humble duty as your moirail to see to your well- being and the well-being of your cob webbed covered junk.” You huff and he continues. “CD is a no. Your mom called dibs on DS red, I have dibs on black. GH is a no. You didn’t seem interested in TE. Maybe you’ll change your mind after you see him without a shirt on. He looks just as good as a human as he did a troll. Stay as far the fuck away from Serkets as possible.” He pauses. “What do you think of RG?”

“Redglare? I thought you were interested in her as a possible matesprit.”

“DS’s overly dramatic ass keeps me occupied. You should see his new piercings.” You slowly shake your head as his perverted chuckle fills the corner of the café. 

“I’ll pass,” you mumble into your drink.

“So SL back to RG.” 

“She seems nice…”

“But…”

“She only sees me as The Sufferer. I want someone that can see me for myself with all of my substantial flaws included and not some over aggrandized legend.” 

“That rules TS out. He is not a subtle fangirl.” You nod in agreement. “That leaves TH and she would destroy you as in complete and utter obliteration of your unblemished virgin ass.” 

“It would be an education experience to say the least.” Psi hums in agreement. The waitress drops off the check and you ask for a box. “I think I might just wait and see what happens.” 

“You still believe in serendipity? Even after all that’s happened?” 

“I met you and GH. Who says that it can’t happen again?” 

“I don’t want to see you get hurt SL.”

“But I will Psi. That’s life. And you know what? You and GH will be there to pick me up and that’s why I believe.”

“Romantic bastard.”

“Yeah I guess I am.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Psi why does your quirk have to be such a pain in the ass and why the hell did I chose to write a chapter that's almost pure dialogue? Gah. I hope you like it.


	8. One More Cup

You can’t help that you still believe in serendipity. Somewhere out there is the one for you. Your forming daydream of romantic bliss is interrupted by your phone vibrating in the front pocket of your hoodie. You take a quick peek at the screen. The text is purple, GH can wait. Psi deserves as much of your time as he. You glance up from your phone and see your moirail staring at his snickering.

“GH just asked me if I ate anything.” If GH is currently talking to Psi… You pull your phone out and double check pesterchum.

\-- transmundaneCleric [TC] began trolling compeerGospel [CG]  at 2:46pm --

TC: GREETINGS. 

Transmundane cleric. Transmundane cleric. You don’t know of someone with that handle. The purple text, all capital letters… 

“Motherfucker,” you whisper as you clutch your phone in both hands.

“SL did DS text you?” You tear yourself away from the screen and look up to your moirail who is studying your facial expression. “I see stunned terror but it is lacking a not so subtle hint of revulsion so he hasn’t spilled his sexcapades with your mom.” He pauses. “Does he talk to you about me? Because I can always switch back to using the crop but I do have much better control with the cane.” The cane comment snaps you out of your panic hard enough to give you whiplash.

“What the bulge blister borne crotch rot Psi. I didn’t need to know that you use implements on Dualscar.”

“Implements?” His laugh has not changed much since he became human. “Did I just scar your poor unadulterated thinkpan?” He sighs. “You have so much to learn young padawan.” 

“I don’t get that reference.”

“Of course you don’t. It’s not from a romance novel or movie,” he comments. Psi glances down at the phone still in your grasp. “So if DS didn’t text you then who did?” You can feel the flush rapidly spreading like a subjugglator hunter killer squadron. “The person you picked the saddle out for just texted you didn’t they?” 

“What does me choosing hoofbeast equipment have to do with a person?” 

“You’re moving on from TD. Just because you haven’t started fucking someone yet doesn’t mean that you haven’t at least picked out a saddle.” You require further explanation. “It’s a metaphor for when you are interested in having sex with someone. You’re picking out a saddle for that person because you want to ride them.” 

“Ride them? Why would I ride the person I am interested in?”

Your moirail slowly shakes his head. “You are so naïve it’s painful, physically painful. I am in physical pain for you. Sympathy pains,” he wheezes out as he clutches at his shirt and curls into a ball. Psi holds his position for a few seconds before sneaking a peek over the table to you. He takes your lack of a reaction to his theatrics as his cue to straighten up and move on. “Riding in this case is a euphemism for sex. Riding is an activity that you can literally do. You could ride their dick if they’ve got one.” Psi pauses. “Oh for the love of Linux please tell me that you know that not all humans have the same fun bits.”

You sputter. “I know that,” your volume lowers from your grub’s default level to yours, “not all humans have the same genitalia. There are variations.” Your moirail does not seem thoroughly convinced.

“SL answer this truthfully. When was the last time that you had sex? With an actual person, not a memory in a dream bubble,” he adds. 

“A few thousand…”

“Please say seconds ago.”

“Years.” He visibly winces as if hearing your answer did cause him physical pain. 

“You haven’t fucked once since you became human?”

“No.”

“But it’s been months. We’ve been human for over a perigree.” He leans back against the booth. “I don’t know if I can help that level of repression.” 

“I am not repressed.”

Psi flags down the waitress. “I’m going to need another cup of coffee. This is going to take a while.” Neither of you utter a word until Psi gets his refill. “So, who is it?”

“Who is what?”  
“SL stop being a fuckpod. Who are you planning to take to get a saddle fitting? Is it someone I know?”

“Why do you need to …?”

“Depending on who it is your lack of knowledge might not be that disastrous.” His full level of scrutiny is unnerving. Sipping melting ice will not save you. “So help me, I will pap you in public and I know that it will embarrass you much more than it will embarrass me.” 

“Kurloz.”

“GH?”

“No,” you sigh. “Kurloz.”

His eyebrows perk up. “Kurloz? You mean the moirail of my pre-scratch self Kurloz?”

“Yes.”

“The pre-scratch version of our moirail?”

“Yes.” 

“The same Kurloz who sided with Caliborn? The one who plotted the downfall of all of existence to fulfill the ancient prophecy of a misguided juggalo religion?” 

“GH worships the Mirthful Messiahs,” you interject. 

“GH didn’t fight alongside Lord English and actively tried to kill us all.” You stare at him. “Well not recently.” 

“It has been quite some time since I last heard him threatening to paint the walls with my heretical blood.” 

“Good times, good times. So… you have a thing for troll Satan. I did not see that coming.”

“I’ve always had a thing for demented psychopaths.” 

“That’s not healthy.” He tries to stifle a chuckle and fails. 

“What?”

“Jesus and Lucifer sitting in a tree F-U-C-K-I-N-G.”

For fucks sakes. “That’s real adult of you Psi.” 

“I’m not the one blushing like a wiggler. So did you reply yet?” 

“Didn’t you just tell me that this was unhealthy?” 

He pauses in thought for a fraction of a second. “Yes I did. But you are an adult and are free to make your own pan numbingly idiotic decisions.” He leans forward to take a peek at your phone. “So did you?” You scrunch up and hide your phone underneath the table.

“No.”

“Text him.”

“I’m working on it.” You stare at the screen. You have given speeches in front of hundreds and died in front of thousands. Talking a fellow former troll should not be this difficult. “Should I say hi or hello? No hello is too formal,” you mumble to yourself. A rustling of plastic interrupts your train of thought. You look up and find your moirail inching out of the booth with his bag of leftovers in hand. “What are you doing?”

“Leaving.”

“You can’t leave,” you hiss. “This is my time of need. I need you to help me.” 

“I am leaving you because this is your time of need.”

“Fucking bulge,” you mutter.

“SL you have been given the opportunity to grow. It is time for me to kick your ass out of the nest.” He stands up. “Believe in me who believes in you.”

“I hate you.”

“But not with the fury of a thousand shouting sphincters.” 

“That made less sense than the usually drivel that spews out between your unfortunate dentition.” 

“It should, I got it from you.” You drop your head into your palms and sigh. When you look up your phone is not on the table. “Oh fuck,” you turn and see it in Psi’s hands, “no.” Your life is ending in slow motion with each movement of his thumbs. This isn’t good. This is far from being described as anything remotely positive let alone the word good. 

“There I did the difficult part for you. Now all you have to do is be your charming self and you will win his shriveled heart.” He holds the phone out to you. You hesitate before taking it. 

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed this yet Psi, but I don’t fucking have a charming self.”

“SL you had a cult. That’s all the proof you need.”

“After I was dead. It doesn’t count if you’re already dead,” you yell as he starts to walk away. 

“Try not to fuck it up,” he replies with a wave goodbye. 

You sit back down in the booth with a huff and look at the damage he wrought with his boney thumbs.

CG: HI. 

It could be worse you suppose.


	9. Fuck that Guy, No Really

You spent the rest of that night sans reply which did not bother you at all. Not one single bit. Neither did waking up this morning and discovering a voicemail from your mother asking when you would be returning home from your impromptu sleepover at your moirail’s house. You are aware that your demise has caused her considerable grief and that her memories of your death still haunt her which only heightens her concern over your health and wellbeing. However, you would greatly appreciate it if she did not treat you like a fragile wiggler. You’ve led a revolt for fuck’s sakes. A revolt that did end in your untimely and violent demise as well as her and Psiionic’s enslavement and The Disciple’s life on the lam. But you did lead a revolt. You’ve depressed yourself by dredging up your lackluster past and you haven’t even finished putting on your pants. Excellent job Vantas. Keep up the barely above the minimal requirements for acceptable work. You sigh and pull up your jeans. 

You contemplate the possibility that your mother is still unaware of the situation that brought about your “impromptu sleepover” at GH’s apartment while you sift through your bags for socks and a shirt. The probability is high. If she does know that you caught the festering boil engaged in coitus with the person who you once had a deep connection with long ago, she most likely would have mentioned it. Or she does know and chose to not mention the incident due to the emotions that the mentioning of such an event so soon after it had happened would stir. Your mother is one of the most, if not the most caring and considerate people that you know. She would go to great pains to ensure that you would not suffer any undue harm. However, her meddling does tend leave situations muddled, the true source and substance of the conundrum long since obscured by good intentions. Sometimes ripping the adhesive bandage off in one swift motion is the best solution. You need to be blunt. If she does not know, then she needs to know, and you must be the one to tell her. 

Just not right now.

You don’t feel like dealing with it. But when do you ever feel like dealing with anything remotely connected to Kankri? If this was Alternia you could just lock him outside and let nature take its course. You fantasize about his death in all its various permutations as you wander from the bedroom to the kitchen. Sunlight, feral trolls, the undead, the ways to die were endless on Alternia. There are a few too many individuals invested in his continuing existence for you to end his without a fuss. Porrim is more of a concern than Cronus. She has a similar motherly affection for him as your mother does for you. Her vengeance would be swift and exacting. She is not one you would readily trifle with and is the main reason why Kankri still lives. Cronus could be dealt with; however his source of affection is quite different than hers. If Cronus had only taken the initiative then the current situation would have never had a chance to arise. You toy with the possibility of helping Cronus secure Kankri as his matesprit but find the idea of helping a person plagued with consent issues with anything romantically related besides learning what the word “no” means distasteful. Consent is paramount and Cronus needs to learn that fact before entering into a relationship or even contemplating the possibility of entering one. 

Speaking of distasteful fuckwads. You find a note on the counter from GH stating that he has an issue at work that needs his immediate attention on a Sunday of all days and that he left breakfast at Strider’s apartment. The call of pancakes is too strong to resist. You’re going to have to deal with your moirail’s insufferable matesprit. Great.   
You find Strider’s apartment as desolate as Makara’s. There is not a soul in sight. Instead of encountering a blond inscrutable creature with shades you find a still warm mound of pancakes sitting on the counter. 

“Why hello golden fluffy packets of goodness, what’s a tasty morsel like you doing in a place like this?” 

“I was just about to ask you the same question.” Instinct kicks in and you grab the first marginally sharp metallic object in reach and whip around to face the source of the sound. Gl’bgolyb damn it, wet half naked mammals should not be this attractive. Bro Strider is fresh out of the shower and wearing only a pair of boxers and shades. You will yourself to not look down at the scars crisscrossing his exposed torso, or his legs, or his arms, which leaves you staring at his face. It isn’t helping. The smirk on Strider’s face grows as his gaze trails down to the object in your hand. “You planning on killing me with a butter knife Kankri?” 

“I’ve done much worse with much less Bro,” you growl. 

“Oh have you now?” His voice sounds like the butter you want to smear all over your pancakes. Maybe you’ll just smear him all over your pancakes instead. 

“I don’t usually condone the use of violence but it does have its applications in certain circumstances.” His fingertips lightly brush over the counter top as he slowly closes the distance between you. He stops well within your strike range. This bastard is testing you.

“Is this one of those circumstances?” He licks his lips. “Makara’s at work. Dirk’s out with Kurloz looking for his lost phone, and the kids are at John’s house. So it’s you, me, and no one to call an ambulance.” He’s giving off enough signals that not even your untrained think pan would miss. 

“Are you flirting with me?” He grins broad enough to reveal his teeth. He nods. “And you are aware of what’s involved in a caliginous encounter?” 

Strider takes a step closer. “GH and I had an extensive conversation.”

“Then you know that you have to impress me first.” 

He leans in. “And you get to prove that those sickles aren’t just for show.” He pulls back and chuckles. “You’re cute when you’re angry.” You equip your sickles. Strider’s eyebrows quirk as he glances down at your drawn weapons. 

“Strider I thought you should know that trolls who fail to prove themselves as equal rivals to their potential kismesis are often killed by said troll.” Strider equips his katana. 

“Keep talking dirty like that and you’re gonna make it harder for the both of us.” You trap his sword between your sickles when he goes to tap your crotch with the flat edge of the blade. He shouldn’t underestimate you or your reflexes. He pulls back on his trapped blade. You release it and rush forward. Your head butt hits him square in the bridge of the nose. He really should not underestimate you. Strider turns his backwards momentum into a roll and recovers to his feet. 

“Are you going to take me seriously now Strider?” 

He swipes the trickle of blood dripping from his nose away with his tongue. “Come at me bro.” He flash steps and you lunge finding yourselves equal in the middle between the counter and the kitchen table. The clang of metal on metal fills the air but fear does not fill your heart.

This is not like your past battles.

This fight is exhilarating. 

Your lip is bloody, Strider’s nose is still bleeding, you have a half a dozen growing bruises between the two of you, and you’re both grinning like lunatics as sharpened steel misses by mere millimeters. You block a downward slash with your sickles crossed above your head. Strider presses his advantage in strength and forces you back against a wall. His mouth lingers so close to yours. He growls, a sound that originates deep within his chest, before he mashes his lips against yours. The kiss is fevered and full of teeth. It tastes metallic and you couldn’t wish for more. He draws back and looks at you over the rims of his shades. 

“Are you satisfied?” he asks breathless.

“You’ve demonstrated your prowess with your sword, now you have to with your other.” It’s your turn to grin as you grind your thigh against the growing bulge in his pants. He hisses and steps back. 

“Are we going to need weapons for this?” 

“No, not this part.” 

“Works for me,” he says as he sheaths his katana. You stow your sickles away in your specibus. He pushes you back up against the wall, one hand fisted in your hair keeping your lips locked onto his, as he roughly palms your crotch. You grab two handfuls of cheek and knead to your bloodpusher’s desire. His plush rump does feel as good as it looks. You growl when he abruptly breaks contact. 

“Hold on sweet cheeks. Lube’s in the bedroom,” he whispers and gives your rump a quick squeeze before he turns and starts to walk away.

“Lube?” Your question stops him dead. Strider turns to face you at a painstakingly slow pace and stares. He goes to say something and hesitates before continuing.

“You did not just ask me that question. This is some joke?” He starts to chuckle. “Fuck with the human before you actually fuck the human? Because…” he stops laughing. A muttered ‘fuck’ breaks the uncomfortably long silence that follows. “You’re serious. Do you not know how sex between humans works?”

“I know…”

“Jack,” he finishes for you. “You know Jack.” Strider runs both hands through his drying hair as he sighs and starts to pace. “How did Captor or Makara not tell you? Hell how did Rosa or Porrim not tell you?” 

“Tell me what?” 

He stops pacing. “Anything. Everything.” He sighs long enough you suspect his lungs might collapse from lack of air to keep them inflated. “Have a seat on the futon.”

“What? We’re not?”

“No, I’m going to be a responsible adult. I’m going to give you The Talk.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What did you think was going to happen?


	10. Bulge Block Me Faster and to the Right

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sex is an important subject in the Strider household.

When Strider reaches the section on anal fissures and the other assorted hazards of improper anal preparation all of your pent up sexual desire vanishes. Then he moves on to sexual transmitted diseases. The plethora of pictures he shows you are… well let’s just say you thought you had seen some fucked up shit on Alternia. You were wrong. You begin to suspect that another thousand years will pass before you will feel the urge to pail again. He pauses halfway through the description of the current vile photograph on his portable husktop and stares at you. The bastard almost succeeds in feigning concern. 

“You ok Kankri? You’re looking a lil green around the edges. Do you want me to get a bucket or something bro?” He just had to. 

You slap a hand over your mouth as you feel the bile creeping up your throat and rush to the load gaper. The greasy cheese coated cardboard tastes better on its way up it than it does on its way down. You try not to dwell on that unsettling fact as you purge the contents of your digestive sac. Strider is uncharacteristically showing his delight in your discomfort with a quite visible smirk plastered on his unduly attractive face. He is reveling in your suffering, lingering in the doorway despite the growing stench just to drink in your misery. 

“I hate you Strider. I loathe you from the darkest recesses of the blacked chambers of my blood pusher. I wish,” it’s difficult to properly convey your wrath when you are forcibly expelling the remaining contents of your digestive sac. “I wish that I could adequately describe the depth of my feelings for you.”

“Aww, you are too sweet nubsykins. Such a charmer.” 

“I wish that your crotch would be infested with vicious biting clawed beasts of a thousand irate luscii and that your arms would be too short to scratch your infested genitals.”

“Crabs? I think I have a picture of that.” He pulls out his phone and fiddles with it for a second or two before shoving it in your face.

“Oh my g...” you lean back over the load gaper and make yet another sacrifice to the porcelain deity. 

Strider whistles. “You should see the enlarged version.” 

“I will vomit on all that you love.” All you have left is watered down bile. It will have to suffice. You hear the front door open. Strider steps out of the absolution block doorway to greet the newly arrived.

“Vantas says he’s going to puke on you.”

“I’m not into that,” your moirail quickly replies. You rejoice from the floor. Salvation has arrived. GH wanders over to the absolution block and peers in followed by his insufferable matesprit. “You ok palebro?” You groan as you hold onto the load gaper. The cool porcelain is soothing. “You look motherfucking dehydrated as shit.” He turns to face Strider. “What happened?” 

Strider whips out his phone. “This.” GH takes it and studies the photograph before letting out a low whistle. 

“Shit reminds me of the Quell Incident. Motherfuckers were told not to pail the locals and they didn’t listen.” He hands Strider back his phone. 

“And?” 

“You can’t just leave us hanging bro,” Strider adds. GH’s grin is all teeth. This story doesn’t end well.

“Colteron was in the preliminary stages of colonization. A company of subjugglators stationed on the Quell were temporarily reassigned to assist with the integration of the local population into the Alternian Empire.” 

“Is that the government sanctioned phrase for crushing in the skulls of those rightfully fighting their repressors who have invaded their homeland for the sole purpose of pillaging it of all useful resources before moving onto the next planet?” You’ve put a damper on GH’s sadistic glee.

“Crushing in skulls is the motherfucking government sanctioned phrase for crushing in skulls. The subjugglators were stationed on Colteron to assist with the integration of its denizens not to fucking outright cull them.” Strider quirks an eyebrow. GH huffs before he continues. “Some brothers just don’t follow orders as well as others.” 

“You don’t say,” you reply.

“If it makes you feel better all the motherfucker involved died. Gruesomely.” You think about if the type of death suffered by the subjugglators in question would somehow balance the injustices they wrought upon their victims.

“How gruesome?”

“Enough to make the Angel of Double Death cringe.”

That’ll do.

“Any-fucking-ways one of the brothers didn’t pay heed to the ground troop’s warning of don’t pail the locals. Several light cycles into the assignment the aforementioned twit gets checked into the medical bay of the Quell complaining of intermittent lower thoracic pain and elevated temperature. He’s treated as per usual and returned to duty. A couple of light cycles later a few more motherfuckers check into the med bay with the exact same symptoms. They get treated and released. Ship’s medical records for the remainder of the temporary assignment list nothing worth motherfucking noting. The company returned to the Quell after their replacements relieved them and the ship departed to their next post.” 

“That doesn’t sound worth being called an incident.”

“The Quell never reached its destination. The miserable fuckers didn’t even make it out of Colteron space. A fleet ship discovered the Quell adrift a cycle’s journey from where the Quell’s emergency distress beacon stopped transmitting. They didn’t find any crew members, only their split open husks. Motherfuckers became nothing more than meat suits, incubators for the Colteron’s parasitic young. The corpses were infested with thousands of squirming white worms feasting on the rotting bloated flesh…”  
“This sounds like an urban legend.” Your remark halts your moirail in his about to become overly descriptive tracks. 

“What?” 

“I said it sounds like an urban legend. A cautionary tale to tell the recruits when they ask why they shouldn’t attempt to get their bulges wet with one of the newly conquered aliens.” 

“I personally signed off on the incident report.” An unnervingly calm voice interrupts yours and GH’s squabbling. 

“Oh sweet sugar peaches of mine is this the reason why you wouldn’t deign to fuck me for the longest time while we were in the bubble? You let this prime piece of Strider plush rump go untapped for how long over a story about maggots coming out of some fuckwit’s chest?” 

“I …” The way Strider crosses his arms does things to you. Or it used to before the highly detailed medical photographs he showed you earlier. His ‘I will gut you where you stand and like it’ aura is not going to get your bulge up anytime soon. Fuck.

“Well honey bunch?” Your moirail is floundering while you think about the advantages of masturbation. STD but not shame free.

“Thousands of maggots erupted from their thoracic cavities.” GH’s pantomime of exploding chests does little to assuage his matesprit’s wrath. “They formed cysts in the biowires. Do you know how motherfucking difficult it is to treat an entire ship for cysts?” Strider remains unmoved. He holds no pity for the crews that had to peel off every single fucking panel in the Quell in order to remove the infested biowires and flame sterilize the compartment. 

“You cocked blocked me for weeks.” GH’s offense has been decimated. “Ignored me after I wrote ‘pail me’ on my chest in purple lube.” His defense is dwindling and you are learning more about their sex life or lack thereof than you had ever wanted to know. You’re interested in the relationships of others, not their sexual escapades. “Should I tell your fated cuddlebro about the drones?” Drones? The ‘kills by ripping off the limbs of its victim’s’ drones? You wouldn’t mind hearing that story. 

“If you had motherfucking explained human reproduction the first time we could have been fucking like hop beasts from the moment you emptied that bucket on me.” And that is your cue to leave. You flush the load gaper because you are not a completely inconsiderate bastard and dart to the door. Sweet freedom greets you on the other side, along with a message from your mother. 

GA : So+n We Need To+ Have A Talk. O+ne That Yo+u Have Been Po+stpo+ning Fo+r Quite So+me Time. I Am Wo+rried Fo+r Yo+ur State O+f Wellbeing.   
GA: I Have Been Made Aware O+f What Has Transpired Between Kankri And Meulin. 

"Shit."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story was originally only supposed to be a few chapters. Whelp...


	11. Overly Forceful Shits

\-- compeerGospel [CG] began trolling technicalAbrogate[TA]  at 11: 20 am --

CG: PSI MY MOTHER WANTS TO TALK TO ME.  
CG: WHAT DO I DO?  
TA: Y0U 74LK 70 H3R.  
CG: WHAT ?  
CG: NO. THAT IS NOT AN OPTION.  
TA: 0H L00K H3R3 5H3 15.  
CG: YOU’RE THE ONE WHO TOLD HER. DON’T LEAVE HER WITH ME.  
CG: JUDAS.  
GA: Hello+ My So+n Who+ Wo+uld No+t Actively Igno+re His Mo+ther In O+rder To+ Avo+id Talking Abo+ut A Subject That He Finds Distasteful With Her.   
CG: HELLO MOTHER.  
CG: SO PSI TOLD YOU?  
GA: Bo+th O+f Your Mo+irails Did.  
GA: They Care Deeply Abo+ut Yo+ur Wellbeing So+n. As Painful As Yo+u Find This, It Is Best To+ Air O+ut The Wo+und Lest It Fester.   
CG: I AM NOT FESTERING.  
GA: Yo+u Have Fled To+ The Safety O+f Yo+u’re Mo+irail’s Abo+de Fo+r So+lace. The O+ne Lo+cation That Neither Kankri No+r The Disciple Wo+uld Dare Tread.   
CG: I DID NOT FLEE. I RELOCATED TEMPORARILY.  
GA: Yo+u Sent O+thers To+ Co+llect Perso+nal Items Fo+r An Extended Stay In Yo+ur Stead. Why Did Yo+u No+t Co+llect Them Yo+urself If There Is No+ Issue?  
GA: I Kno+w That Yo+ur Relatio+nship With The Disciple Was Special And That Even Tho+ugh Yo+u Two+ Are No+ Lo+nger To+gether, Yo+u Still Have Feelings Fo+r Her.  
CG: I DID NOT FLEE. I JUST NEEDED TIME. MAKARA SUGGESTED THAT THE WIGGLERS PICKING UP A FEW THINGS WOULD BE A GOOD IDEA INSTEAD OF ME RETURNING THERE SO SOON AFTER.  
CG: I DON’T KNOW WHAT I WOULD HAVE DONE.  
CG: I LOVED HER.  
CG: I LOVE HER. BUT SHE DOES NOT LOVE ME. NOT FOR WHO I AM.  
CG: SHE LOVES THIS IDEAL VERSION OF ME. THE MARTYR, THE SAVIOR, THE ONE HOPE THAT WOULD SHED LIGHT ON THE DARK WORLD THAT SURROUNDED HER ON ALL SIDES AFTER WE WERE GONE. I SHOULD HAVE BEEN THERE WITH HER. I SHOULD HAVE BEEN THERE NOT TO PROTECT HER; SHE HAS NEVER NEEDED MY PROTECTION. I SHOULD HAVE BEEN THERE AS HER COMPANION, HER CONFIDANT, THE ONE TO BE WITH HER AS THE DAWN APPROACHES. BUT I WASN’T. I DIED. I LET MYSELF DIE TO FULFIL SOME MISGUIDED PROPHESY. I NEEDED TO BECOME A MESSIAH AND IN DOING SO I LEFT HER COMPLETELY AND UTTERLY ALONE.  
CG: SHE CREATED WHO SHE NEEDED AND I AM NOT IT. I DO NOT DESERVE HER. NOT AFTER ALL THAT I HAVE MADE HER ENDURE.  
CG: I WANT HER TO BE HAPPY. SHE DESERVES MORE THAN I CAN GIVE HER. MY ONLY WISH IS THAT SHE DID NOT CHOOSE HIM.   
GA: My So+n, The Jo+y O+f My Heart. Yo+u Did No+t Fail Her. Yo+ur Death Was No+t O+f Yo+ur O+wn Cho+o+sing. Fate Had Decided Yo+ur Death As Well As All O+f O+ur O+wn. Think Kindly O+f The Memo+ries That Yo+u Spent To+gether And No+t O+f Tho+se That Did No+t Co+me To+ Pass. She Has Cho+sen Fo+r Herself O+f Her O+wn Vo+litio+n And Fo+r Her O+wn Reaso+ns, No+t O+ut O+f Spite.   
GA: Yo+u Still Ho+ld A Place In Her Heart. It Is No+t The Same As Yo+u O+nce Had Held All Tho+se Sweeps Ago+, But Yo+u Are Special To+ Her And Will Always Remain So+.  
CG: BUT WHY HIM?  
GA: Why She Has Cho+sen Kankri Eludes Me And Why He Has Recipro+cated Vexes Me Further. She Has Made Her Cho+ice And Yo+u Must Ho+no+r It Fo+r Her Sake And Fo+r Yo+urs.  
CG: YOU KNOW OF MY FEELINGS FOR KANKRI.  
GA: I Am Aware O+f Yo+ur Plato+nic Hatred As Intense As The Fire O+f A Tho+usand Burning Suns. I Do+ No+t Want This To+ Drive A Wedge Between Yo+u and The Disciple. He is Her Po+o+r Decision. I Do+ No+t Want His Death Being Yo+urs. I Will No+t Abide Seeing My So+n Taken Away Fro+m Me A Seco+nd Time.  
GA: Yo+u Will No+t Lay A Hand O+n Kankri. Perio+d.   
GA: Do+ I Have Yo+ur Wo+rd That Yo+u Will No+t Harm Him?  
GA: This Includes Asking Yo+ur Mo+irail To+ Subject Him To+ His Chucklvo+o+do+o+s.  
CG: YES. YOU HAVE MY WORD.  
GA: Befo+re I Return Yo+u To+ Yo+ur Mo+irail, I Have An Unrelated Questio+n.  
GA: Why Did Kurlo+z Strike Kankri When He And The O+thers Came To+ Co+llect Yo+ur Things?  
CG: KANKRI WOULDN’T TALK TO KURLOZ AFTER HE HAD BITTEN OFF HIS OWN TONGUE. KANKRI THOUGHT THAT HE WOULD BE FLAUNTING HIS ABILITY TO TALK.   
GA: …  
GA: I Must Speak To+ Kankri Abo+ut A Great Many Things.   
CG: GOOD LUCK.  
GA: I Will No+t Be The O+ne Who+ Needs It.  
GA: Go+o+dbye My Vibrant Grub. Yo+ur Ho+me Will Be Waiting Fo+r Yo+ur Return When Yo+u Are Ready.  
CG: BYE MOM.  
CG: THANKS.  
TA: 50, H0W W45 7H3 74LK W17H Y0UR M0M?   
CG: WAS IT WORTH IT?   
CG: HOW MUCH COMPUTER EQUIPMENT CAN YOU BUY WITH THIRTY PIECES OF SILVER?   
TA: 5L, 1 W0ULD R47H3R F4C3 0N3 0F 7H3 3MPR355’5 F4V0R173 70R7UR3N73RR3G470RS 7H3N D34L W17H Y0UR M0M WH3N SH3 WAN75 1NF0RM4710N.   
CG: YOU FEAR HER MORE THAN YOU FEAR ME?   
TA: Y0U 4R3 4W4R3 7H47 1 H4V3 N0 PR08L3M WH4T 50 3V3R W17H L3771NG 50M30N3 KN0W WH3N 7HEY’V3 45K3D M3 4 57UP1D QU35710N?   
CG: …  
CG: THERE IS NO COMPARISON IS THERE?   
TA: N07 4 51NGL3 50L174RY 1074.   
TA: 17’5 0K 70 4DM17 17 5L, Y0U JU57 4R3N’7 P4N7SH1771NG 73RR1FY1NG.   
CG: BUT MY MOTHER IS?   
TA: D0 Y0U N07 R3M3M83R 4NY 0F 7H3 71M3 1 5P3N7 W17H Y0U 45 0N3 0F Y0UR D15C1PL35?   
TA: H0W H4RD D1D 7HE 5UBJUGGL470R5 H17 Y0U T0 D4M4G3 Y0UR P4N 3N0UGH 7H47 Y0U W0ULD F0RG37 7H3 SU8L1M3 4W3 1N5P1R1NG T3RR0R 7H47 5H3 C0ULD 5TR1K3 1N70 7H3 H34R7 0F 07H3R 7R0LL5?   
TA: 7H3 7H1NG5 5H3 C0ULD D0 W17H 4 5CYTH3… FUCK.   
CG: DID YOU HAVE A THING FOR MY MOM?   
CG: DON’T ANSWER THAT. THERE ARE SOME QUESTIONS THAT ARE BEST LEFT UNANSWERED.   
TA: 17’5 0K 50N, JU57 C4LL M3 D4DDY.   
CG: OH GL’BGOLYB.   
CG: THERE IS NOT ENOUGH PAN BLEACH IN THE WORLD. FUCK YOU CAPTOR. AND FUCK YOUR FESTERING LESION RIDDLED BULGE.   
TA: 7H1NK H4PPY 7H0UGH75 5L   
CG: I DON’T HAVE HAPPY THOUGHTS PSI. YOU MASSACRED THE POOR FUCKING BASTARDS WHEN YOU JOKED ABOUT PAILING MY MOTHER. I HAVE ONE MOTHERFUCKER THAT I ALREADY HAVE TO DEAL WITH AND I DO NOT NEED ANOTHER ONE.   
TA: D5 15 G00D 47 K33P1NG P30PL3 8U5Y. 5P34K1NG 0F K33P1NG 8U5Y…  
CG: OH NO.   
TA: 0H Y35.  
TA: 7HR3350M3.  
CG: WHERE IS DARKLEER WHEN YOU NEED HIM?  
TA: 7W0 15 4 G00D NUM83R, BU7 1 C0ULD 533 MY53LF 574R71NG 70 L1K3 7HR33.  
CG: YOU CAN BE A FUCKING HEMORRHOID RIDDLED WASTECHUTE SPHINCTER WHEN YOU WANT TO BE, WHICH JUST HAPPENS TO BE ALL OF THE FUCKING TIME.   
TA: Y35, 8U7 1’M Y0UR F4V0R173 W45735HU73 5H1NC73R.   
CG: I’LL TRY NOT TO TAKE TOO OVERLY FORCEFULL SHITS AND RIP YOU.   
TA: 1 4PPR3C1473 7H47. 5P34K1NG 0F 0V3RLY F0RC3FUL 5H175, 1 5CR0LL3D UP 4ND 54W 7H47 KL PUNCH3D KN.   
TA: 1 W4N7 D3741L5.   
CG: I WAS NOT THERE TO WITNESS THE GLORIOUS MOMENT THAT THE LOQUACIOUS DRIVEL SPEWER FELL VICTIM TO HIS OWN AMASSED KARMA SO I ALL INFORMATION I HAVE IS SECOND HAND BROUGHT TO ME VIA MY WIGGLER AND THE YOUNGER STRIDER. GH SENT A CONTINGENT OF WIGGLERS TO MY HOUSE TO GATHER A LIST OF ITEMS THAT I WOULD NEED FOR THE WEEK. ONCE THE ITEMS WERE COLLECTED GAMZEE READ A LETTER THAT OUR MOIRAIL HAD COMPOSED TO KANKRI. I HAVE NOT HAD THE OPPORTUNITY TO READ SAID LETTER, BUT I SURMISE THAT IT WAS BRIMMING WITH THREATS OF VARIOUS TYPES OF VIOLENCE AND EXOTIC FORMS OF TORTURE GIVEN GH’S PROTECTIVE NATURE AND FORMER OCCUPATION. AT THE END OF THE WRIT OF IMMINENT DEMISE GAMZEE STARTED TO READ A PORTION OUT LOUD THAT HE SHOULD NOT HAVE. KURLOZ THEN TOOK THE LETTER FROM HIM, READ IT, AND THEN TEXTED THE YOUNGER STRIDER.   
TA: WH1CH Y0UNG3R 57R1D3R?   
CG: DIRK. HE AND KURLOZ HAVE FORMED A PLATONIC BOND OF SIMILAR STRENGTH TO THAT OF GH AND HIS MATESPRIT. DIRK ANNOUNCED THAT KURLOZ CALLED THE SACRED RIGHT OF DIBS BASED ON PAST TRANSGRESSIONS. AND THEN KURLOZ PUNCHED KANKRI IN THE JAW WHO PROMPTLY CRUMPLED TO THE FLOOR. THE WIGGLERS DEPARTED SOON AFTER DUE TO CRONUS’ QUITE VISIBLE IRE AT THE TURN OF EVENTS.   
TA: TH3 P457 7R4NGR35510N5 831NG 7H3 F4C7 7H47 KN D1D N07 5P34K 70 KL F0R C3NTUR135? 1 D0N’7 KN0W 480U7 Y0U 8U7 1 W0ULD 83 7HR1LL3D 1F 7HE DU57Y N00K D1DN’7 H4R455 M3 F0R C3N7UR135. 4L7H0UGH 1’LL 4CCP37 4NY R3450N 70 H17 KN.   
CG: KANKRI IGNORED A FELLOW COMRADE FOR OVER A MILLENIUM. HE WILLFULLY DID NOT SPEAK TO HIM FOR A THOUSAND SWEEPS DUE TO SOME MISGUIDED SENSE OF SOCIAL JUSTICE.   
CG: I’LL SHOW HIM TRUE AND RIGHTEOUS SOCIAL JUSTICE.   
TA: N0 Y0U’LL 5H0W H1M Y0UR F157.   
CG: THAT TOO.   
TA: 7H47 W0ULD 83 4 GR347 N4M3 F0R Y0UR 8ULG3. “TRU3 4ND R1GH7E0U5 50C14L JU571C3”. Y0U W0ULD H4V3 70 5HR1NK 7H3 F0N7 51Z3 D0WN 70 G3T 17 70 F17 7H0UGH.   
CG: YOU CANNOT MOCK THE SIZE OF MY BULGE IF YOU HAVEN’T EVEN SEEN IT NOOKSTAIN.   
TA: 15 7H47 4N 0FF3R?   
CG: I WONDER WHY WE’VE NEVER FLIPPED BLACK.  
TA: Y0U C0ULD N3V34 H4NDL3 4LL 0F TH1S.   
CG: IF I EVER FELT THE URGE TO FONDLE A STICK I WOULD GO OUTSIDE AND PICK ONE UP.   
TA: 0H 7H3 P41N, 7H3 4G0NY. G37 M3 8URN 01NTM3N7, 50M3 4L03 V3R4, 1 C4NN07 5URV1V3 Y0UR 8URN1NG W1T.   
CG: FIND YOUR OWN DAMN BURN CREAM OVER DRAMATIC NOOK BLISTER.   
TA: H4R5H. 4NYWH0 WH1L3 W3 4R3 0N 7H3 5U8J3C7 0F Y0U F0NDL1NG S71CK5, D1D Y0U G37 4 CH4NC3 70 74K3 KL’5 F0R 4 R1D3?   
CG: NO. THE ONLY BULGE THAT I HAVE GOTTEN REMOTELY CLOSE TO IS STRIDER’S.   
TA: 1 JU57 8LU3 5CR33N3D 0F D347H F0R 4 53C0ND.   
CG: BRO STRIDER PUSHED ME AGAINST A WALL IN HIS HIVE AND ATTEMPTED TO MAUL MY FACE OFF WITH HIS LIPS MUCH TO OUR MUTUAL SATISFACTION.   
TA: FUCK.   
CG: THERE WAS NO FUCKING.   
TA: H00F B3457 5H17, Y0U G37 4 CH4NC3 47 7H47 455 Y0U G0 F0R 17.   
CG: HIS BLOOD WAS IN MY MOUTH. HIS TEETH WERE ON MY LIPS. OUR ERECT BULGES WERE ONLY SEPARATED BY A FEW LAYERS OF CLOTH MOMENTS AWAY OF BEEN STRIPPED OFF SO WE COULD ENGAGE IN CARNAL ECSTASY.   
TA: 5L Y0U N33D 70 70N3 17 D0WN 0N 7H3 80D1C3 R1PP3RS.   
CG: I’M RELIVING THE MOMENT. IT WAS BEAUTIFUL.   
TA: 50 Y0U W3R3 GR1ND1NG 4G41N57 34CH 07H3R 4ND 17 W45 834U71FUL, G0 0N.   
CG: HE PULLED BACK FROM RAVISHING ME AND TOLD ME THAT HE WAS GOING TO GO RETRIEVE LUBE FROM HIS BLOCK. I DIDN’T KNOW WHAT LUBE WAS. ME NOT KNOWING WHAT LUBE WAS KILLED THE MOMENT FASTER THAN A SUBJUGGLATOR TESTING OUT A NEW SET OF CLUBS.   
TA: Y0U D0N’7 KN0W WH47 LU83 1S?   
CG: WELL I FUCKING DO NOW. HE TOLD THAT HE WAS A RESPONSIBLE ADULT AND HE SAT ME DOWN ON THAT INFERNAL CONTRAPTION HE CALLS A FUTON AND GAVE ME “THE TALK”. WHICH SHOULD BE RENAMED “LET’S TELL THE FORMER ALIEN EVERY SINGLE VILE DISGUISTING THING THAT CAN OCCUR DURING HUMAN INTERCOURSE AND THEN SHOW HIM HIGHLY GRAPHIC PICTURES IN THE HOPES OF MAKING THE BASTARD LOSE THE CONTENTS OF THEIR DIGESTIVE SAC, REPEATEDLY.”   
TA: Y0U PUK3D 1N Y0U 8L4CK CRU5H’5 H1V3 4F73R H3 3XPL41N3D H0W 53X W0RK5? Y0U P00R P171FUL B4574RD. 1F 7H47 D035N’7 M4K3 50M30N3 4U70M471C4LLY FL1P F0R Y0U 1 D0N’7 KN0W WH47 W1LL.   
TA: 1 C4N 5H0W Y0U H0W 1F Y0U W4N7. 1 D0N’7 H4V3 4NY0N3 R3D R1GH7 N0W.   
CG: I WOULD LIKE AN ARROW IN MY TORSO RIGHT NOW.   
CG: IT WOULD BE QUICK, PAINLESS. LIKE LAST TIME.   
CG: WHY DO I NOT HAVE DARKLEER’S HANDLE?   
TA: 51GNL355.   
CG: NO.   
CG: HELL FUCKING NO.   
CG: BY THE JUGGALO’S SCALEY, RIDGED AND LUDICROUSLY GIGANTIC BULGE NO.   
CG: I AM NOT THAT PATHETIC.   
CG: DON’T YOU FUCKING DARE FLIP ON ME.   
TA: 5005H. 1 4M N07 G01NG 70 FL1P 0N Y0U 5L.   
TA: H0W D0 Y0U KN0W WH47 GH’5 8ULG3 U53D 70 L00K L1K3?   
CG: HOW DO YOU KNOW WHAT HIS BULGE USED TO LOOK LIKE?   
TA: 1 H4CK3D 1N70 H15 5H1P5 C4M3R45.   
CG: WHAT WOULD POSSESS YOU TO HACK INTO THE CAMERAS OF A SHIP FULL OF FAYGO SWILLING CLOWNS?   
TA: 1 H4D 4 C0N51D3R48L3 4M0UN7 0F FR33 71M3 45 4 8477L35H1P. N0W Y0UR 7URN.   
CG: DO YOU REMEMBER THE PERIGREE WE SPENT IMPRISONED IN BEFORE MY EXECUTION?   
TA: 1 7RY N07 70, 8U7 1 D0 R3M383R GH K3P7 Y0U L0CK3D UP S3P4R473LY 1N 4N07H3R S3C710N 0F 7H3 C0MPL3X.   
CG: GH DID NOT WANT THE OTHER SUBJUGGLATORS TO BLEED ME DRY SO HE DECLARED THAT I WAS HIS KISMESIS AND KEPT ME LOCKED AWAY IN HIS PRIVATE BLOCKS EVEN THOUGH HE NEVER SHOWED ANY BLACK INCLINATIONS TOWARDS ME. OUR TIME SPENT TOGETHER ONLY MADE SENSE AFTER HE DECLARED HIS PALE AFFECTION IN THE DREAM BUBBLES.   
TA: W417. 7H3R3 W45 A F1L14L P41L C0LL3C710N WH1L3 W3 W3R3 1MPR150N3D.   
CG: PSI?   
CG: PSI?   
CG: DON’T BE ANGRY WITH GH, HE WAS ONLY ENSURING THAT I WOULD NOT BE TORN INTO PIECES BY THE DRONES.   
TA: 1’M N07 UP537.   
CG: WHAT THEN?   
TA: 1T’5 7H3 M3CH4N1C5.   
CG: OF COURSE YOU WOULD BE MORE CONCERNED ABOUT HOW WE PAILED INSTEAD OF WHY OR THE POSSIBLE REPERCUSSIONS.   
TA: H3 W45 0V3R TW1C3 Y0UR 51Z3. H15 BULG3 W45 C0N51D3R3D 4 F0RM 0F 70R7UR3. 7R0LL5 D13D FR0M H1M FUCK1NG 7H3M. H3 SPL17 7H3M 1N H4LF 5L. 1N FUCK1NG H4LF. L173R4LLY.   
CG: DID YOU EVER CONSIDER THAT I PAILED HIM?   
TA: …  
TA: 1 4M N0W.   
TA: 50?   
CG: WHAT?   
TA: D1D Y0U P41L H1M?   
CG: NO.   
TA: 7H3N?   
CG: FUCKING NUB FONDLER. HE JUST USED THE TIP.   
TA: L457 QU35710N 4ND 7H3N 1’LL DR0P 17.   
CG: PERMANENTLY?   
TA: 1 C4N’7 GU4R4NT33 P3RM4N3NTLY.   
TA: H0W W45 17?   
CG: AS HORRIFIC AND PAINFULLY AWKWARD AS THE BASTARD CHILD OF YOUR FACE AND THIS CONVERSATION.   
TA: 4R3 Y0U 0K 5L?   
CG: I FEEL DRAINED. TODAY HAS BEEN LONG AS HELL AND IT’S NOT EVEN OVER YET.   
TA: D0 Y0U W4N7 M3 70 5T0P 8Y?   
CG: NO. I’LL LIVE. YOU’VE GOT WORK TOMORROW AND I HAVE A TERM PAPER THAT I NEED TO WORK ON THAT’S DUE AFTER BREAK.   
TA: L37 M3 KN0W 1F Y0U N33D 4NY7H1NG.   
CG: YOU TOO PSI. DON’T FORGET TO TAKE A BREAK AND EAT. SET AN ALARM IF YOU HAVE TO, I KNOW HOW YOU GET WHEN YOU’RE CODING.   
TA: 1 KN0W H0W Y0U G37 T00. 74K3 50M3 71M3 70 R3L4X. H4V3 FUN, 17 W0N’7 K1LL Y0U.   
CG: I’LL ATTEMPT.   


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you have any questions or comments concerning this series hit me up at bettername.tumblr.com .


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